Somewhat Lost
by Majestrix
Summary: Interesting how people find themselves changed after tragedy. Set after the Final Battle. Not everyone came through alive... and those who didn't die weren't left unscathed. Two such people find that they have more in common than they thought.
1. Reaquaintances

Harry picked up his order and walked out of the door, pulling his cloak tighter around his shoulders. The winters always seemed to compliment his mood nowadays. Briefly he thought about going back to his flat a few streets over, but Hermione threatened to come over and make sure he wasn't moping.

And he wasn't… per se. He just wasn't up to feeling as happy as everyone said he should be. Moving his feet into action, the slush on the ground was as grey as the robes he wore, and he wondered if Dumbledore had lived any longer would his beard touch the ground. Morbid thoughts…

A few witches passed him on the other side of the street, and unfortunately he took that opportunity to glance up. The same stupid thing that always happened did, they pointed and shrieked, and waved… and he ignored them as he had to balance his dinner and step over a snow drift that was looking like a depressed, obese snowman.

There weren't many people on the street, for which he was obliged. It gave him time to think of where he was going to go to eat a meal in peace. A place where he didn't have to defend the fact that he was still uninterested in dating; and hear that his best friend's sister was still somewhat sort of pining for him. Bad for digestion.

Rounding the corner, he slipped on a patch of ice cleverly disguised underneath a mass of snow, and found himself grasping an arm that steadied him as he tried not to throw his dinner over his shoulder out of reflex. "Thanks, I appreciate it." He looked up and blinked as he steadied himself. "Angelina?"

She smiled and shrugged. "I believe so. Harry, how are you?"

"I have dinner. I should be happy for the next hour or so." He retorted, looking back at her in curiosity. "I haven't seen you since Fred's funeral."

"Well, what can I say? I went back to live with my parents for a while. At least if you can't have real protection, you go for imagined. At least I slept there."

"Sleep can be hard to come by." Harry agreed, and Angelina pushed the white cloak hood up over her head. "I'm sorry; I'm acting like a prat, carrying on a conversation in the cold like it's not snowing out here. Where are you off to?"

"I think I'm hungry, but do you ever think about food and promptly lose your appetite?"

"Often."

"I guess that's how you kept your figure." She winked and he found himself laughing harshly.

"Yeah. Well, a gift from my Aunt and Uncle. I don't feel the urge to get as large as their fat son."

"I think the witches of the world want you skinny. They all have the secret urge to fatten you up."

"Do they… well; they can just… oh forget it." He finished, shrugging. "I don't have a snappy come back for that one right now."

"Well no wonder. You're starving, so the brainpower is functioning slower than normal. Besides, I wouldn't doubt that you have a large store of comebacks. I remember the press conference after the last battle. You had them firing rapidly then." Angelina's face took on one of slight pleasure as she thought back. "You made Slughorn's arm shake as he gave you your medal."

"I wanted to shove it up his arse." Harry steamed, and opened his collar as he felt the heat of his anger take away the bite of the cold.

"I'm glad you didn't. It would have made for an interesting article, I do believe. I'm not going to keep you anymore Harry. I know you're hungry, and you were probably on the way home."

"I'm not actually. On the way home that is. I'm actually looking for a place to eat so that I don't have to go to the flat just yet." He confided, kicking around a rock that he uncovered with the toe of his boot.

"Why don't you just eat in the restaurant?" She asked, quizzical.

"I don't like doing that. People look, and I glare, and they want an autograph… and I don't feel like that today. Not ever really, but especially today." He passed the food sack to the other hand and flexed his fingers.

"Why don't you come back to my place? It's private, and no one will bother you." Harry opened his mouth and closed it.

"Thanks… are you sure?" Angelina nodded, waving him off.

"Just give me a second to get something to eat myself, and we can apparate to my house."

"Honestly, I have enough for two. They always give me more than what I ask for, or pay for. I stopped debating with them a while ago." He smiled and opened the bag. "I'm definitely willing to share if you like Indian."

"Indian? I love Indian. I didn't know you liked it though." Harry shrugged.

"I had Chinese yesterday." She laughed and took his offered arm, and in the next heartbeat he was standing before quite a large house. "This is where you live?"

"Yep." Angelina opened the door and wiped her feet on the map, taking off her cloak and putting it on the rack. "Here, let me take yours." Harry shook the snow off and handed it over, making sure to wipe his feet on the mat. He watched her take off her boots, and she looked up, feeling his gaze on her back. "I'm sorry; you have to take your shoes off. It's a habit that I kept from my parents."

"Uh…" Harry faltered, wondering if he could bolt now and not offend his friend.

"I don't think you want to take off your shoes." Angelina guessed from the look of pure terror on his face. "The floors are clean… I have muggle help that comes to clean everyday. She finished about half an hour ago… so I know that everything's spotless. .." He laughed and shook his head.

"I've ended up with a few habits of my own. I don't take off my shoes unless I'm home. I don't know when I'm going to have to run." She smiled sadly.

"We've all picked up some wartime habits. It's been four years… maybe it's time we broke them."

"You're right." He slipped out of his boots and put them underneath his cloak and shrugged. "I'm not dead yet, so far so good."

"I'm so glad." Angelina motioned down the hall. "Let's eat in the kitchen. The dining room is only for special occasions." Harry followed her down the hall and laughed slightly.

"I'm not a special occasion?" He asked, sounding injured. "If I'm not a special occasion, I don't know what is!"

"Well, since I'm not enraptured by your fame, you'll have to forgive me. You don't hold the ignorant to the same standards as people who should know better." She joked feebly.

"So what constitutes a special occasion?" Harry asked again as they passed the semi dark room of the formal dining area. There was a long table; with two place settings… they didn't look as if they were touched.

"My anniversary." Angelina ignored the mortified hush behind her and turned into the kitchen, turning the lights on she pulled out two glasses and a bottle of firewhiskey, while Harry put the food on the table and started to unload it. "So what brings you to London? Last time I heard you were living in Wales."

"Next time you read the Prophet, discount whatever they say about me. I went to Wales for two weeks. Just two weeks. I was sent on assignment, just a routine Death Eater sighting."

"People are still calling those in?" She asked, sitting down and pouring both glasses to the brim.

"They've picked up as of late, and Slughorn doesn't want to make the same mistakes as Fudge… especially since I have all intentions of making sure that he doesn't."

"At least you're making a difference. I feel like a blob sometimes. I can't appear to move on." A brief but deep drink of the firewhiskey let Angelina hold her bearings as she fought through the uprising of emotion.

"Don't be like that. We all know that… your loss was a bolt from the blue. It was to all of us, so we know it will take some time to get over." Harry said charitably, passing her half of the food. "No one expected him to go like that."

"I know. But everyone treats me like an invalid… and I think it sunk in." Breaking open the samosa, she inhaled the curry smell and smiled. "I do love Indian food."

"I couldn't have it every night though. It gives me horrible heartburn." Harry laughed, and relaxed enough to take an enthusiastic swallow of his drink.

"I guess I grew out of that. My father loves Indian food. My mother on the other hand, doesn't. She's more into Italian."

"How are your parents?"

"Happy that I'm out of the public life now. They want me to move back in with them. So they can watch me day and night. That's why I moved out. I traded the Prophet reporters for my own parents."

"Well, you married Fred, and he was a prominent figure." Harry sighed.

"To everyone but him. Everything was so arraigned… life insurance that I didn't know about, let alone needed… I just wonder."

"Don't." Harry said severely. "It doesn't help."

"Ginny didn't die in vain. It wasn't your fault. Neither was Neville or Dean." Angelina sat back in her chair and shrugged. "You can't be everywhere at once."

"But I'm the Great Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived and all that rubbish. I'm supposed to do the impossible." He said acrimoniously.

"You did. You got Voldermort. That's more than enough."

"And yet I wonder. I hate this. I hate my life. It's like a shell to me. Not really mine." He reached over and grabbed the bottle, pouring them both refills. "I didn't know you drank this much." Angelina took her glass and knocked it back with the ease of the practiced.

"It helps when going along memory lane."

"If I'm going, it's kicking and screaming." Harry took a judicious drink from his goblet and smiled. She laughed at the look on his face.

"Why Harry, I didn't know you would scream."

"I didn't say it would be me screaming." Angelina sobered up slightly at that comment, and sighed, pulling the bottle closer. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to be stupid." He said seriously, taking her wrist. She bit her lip and looked down at his hand.

"Oh Harry, in Hogwarts, the whole world looked bright and shining, and we just knew, that no matter what, the people we needed would be there for us always. No matter what."

"It didn't work that way. I wish every day it did."

"So why don't you want to go home?" Angelina asked, changing the subject and putting the bottle down. Harry shrugged.

"Because Hermione is the same Hermione. She wants me to find someone to settle down with. But she doesn't know that marriage isn't for everyone. I'm happy for her and Ron, I really am, but since we're so close… I guess that she wants me to be married too."

"It's good that you're so close to them still. Trauma drives people apart sometimes."

"But from time to time it draws them together."

>

"…and so he looked down at the hole in his pants and said, "Oh, where do you think I'm going?" I could have died." Angelina had her head buried in her arms, shoulders quaking. Her hair totally obscured her face, so Harry went on the guess that she was laughing.

Looking up, he was right. She wiped her eyes and sighed, sitting back in her chair. "I totally forgot about that day. I swear, George could turn absolutely anything around for his benefit. Alicia hated it when they argued, because she would always end up apologizing, even if he was wrong. She used to bitch to me about it. What could I do? He was my husband's twin."

"I hated to quarrel with him too. I saw them the other day. I went down to the shop to say hi. Pregnancy agrees with Alicia."

"She's a beautiful mother to be. I dropped by last weekend. I didn't stay long… too many memories." Harry nodded and rolled the goblet between his hands. They were through eating, and were down to straight drinking. "Ugh, I'm zonked."

"No, you passed zonked at least a half hour ago." Angelina rolled her eyes and stood up, albeit a bit shakily.

"And you so didn't stop me. I'm going to bed before I fall on my face." She smiled and leaned over the table to give Harry a kiss on the cheek. "Besides, I see two of you now."

"I'd see seventeen of you if I took my glasses off." He touched the spot that her lips brushed and blushed slightly. "Thanks for the drink and the company."

"No problem. I'd like to see more of you… but only one of you, if you know what I mean."

"Same here." Harry rubbed his temples and groaned. "I drank entirely too much. My head is killing me."

"Then stay. I have five bedrooms in this place, and all but one is empty. Pick a room any room. Then you can head out after you've woken up. I don't want to be the reason why you're on the front page of Prophet for apparating into some poor witch's bedroom."

"Is she dressed in a nighty?" He joked. Angelina laughed.

"Of course. It's sheer and everything."

"Then I'm going to head off." Harry laughed and stood, and promptly sat down. "Or not. I'll take you up on that offer to collapse here, if it's all the same to you. I don't think I want to be moving around right now."

"I understand. The bedrooms are upstairs on the right. You and my cousin are the same size, so in the blue bedroom there should be some pajamas."

"Great. I don't really want to sleep in these robes."

"I'm sure. I'm off." He watched her leave, and looked back at the almost finished bottle of firewhiskey before him.

"Doesn't make sense to save this…" Harry said as he poured the rest into his glass.

> > > > >

Harry pulled on the pajama pants and was thankful that the house was slightly cool, because he was extremely hot and tired, exhaustion setting in… and the firewhiskey wearing off. Wandering around the hall, he poked his head into the bedrooms, discounting each until he came to the last one on the left.

It was a beautiful green in various shades, a large bed against the far wall. The room was spacious, and the balcony had a striking view of a full moon and snow on the ground. The surrounding forest was a contrast of green and white, and it brought him into the room.

Closing it behind him, he walked over to the bed and took off his glasses, stretching and putting them on the nightstand beside the bed. Slipping under the covers, he turned over and stopped, shocked.

Angelina was buried almost up to her head under the covers. What was wrong with him? He came into her bedroom! Cursing his bad luck, he went for his glasses and tried to move out of the bed as quietly as he could. Inching backwards, he managed to get his foot on the floor before slipping and landing on his butt. Groaning, he felt around for his specs, while pulling out his wand. He heard the tinkle of broken glass, and the spell to repair his lenses was on his lips.

"_Oculus Reparo_. Harry, of all the rooms…" Angelina pushed his glasses onto his face, and he smiled at her sheepishly.

"I know, I'm sorry. I didn't see you there. I must be more inebriated than I thought." He said, standing up quickly and stowing his wand. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"It's okay. I would have started with the nightmares by now anyway, so you saved me the trouble."

"I'm going to leave you- nightmares?" Harry frowned. "What are you having nightmares about?"

"Everything and nothing. I'm okay Harry."

"Don't want to chat about it?"

"Oh, so you _did_ see the sign on my forehead." Angelina smiled, bringing her knees up to her chest. "You don't have to go so soon. We can just sit and talk if you want."

"Sure."

"Alright. Get up here before your feet freeze to the floor. I keep it kind of cold at night. If it's too warm I can't sleep." She offered an explanation while moving back the covers beside her.

"I noticed. But it's pleasant." He assured her, sliding under the covers gratefully.

"I'm glad." The conversation that they endeavored to have was stilled, and Harry scratched his head.

"I guess we should just try and go to sleep then. Whatever I was going to say I've forgotten. The firewhiskey must still have a hold on me." Angelina yawned and laid back.

"Okay. I'll go pick another bedroom." She shook her head.

"No need really. I trust you, and I don't really want to be alone right now. At least stay until I fall asleep?" Harry smiled shakily.

"Okay. No problem." He took off his glasses and put them again on the nightstand, leaning back against the headboard. "I see no reason why I can't rest my eyes here."

"Good." The sleep was thick in her voice, and Angelina yawned. "Thank you Harry."

"Your welcome."

>

Harry had his wand out before he totally surfaced from the nightmare. The majority of the battle cries died from his hearing except one. A quiet sobbing… one that shoved him into the world of the waking. Picking up his glasses, he didn't put his wand down until Voldermort's dying face faded from his mind's eye. But the lament didn't cease, and he turned to see it was Angelina.

She was still sleep… but tears were slipping down her cheeks. In the moonlight, the anguish that was always just behind her eyes was naked on her face, and Harry wanted to turn away, if it didn't make so much sense to him. He didn't want to lie anymore. Not to himself, and not to anyone else.

He was still looking when Angelina opened her eyes to stare into his. "It still hurts." She whispered, wiping the tears from her face. Harry nodded.

"I know."

"No matter what I do, if I'm happy, I feel guilty, if I'm sad, I feel like I'm not grateful I'm alive… and if I feel nothing… I feel like… I feel like…"She broke off.

"You feel like you're dying." He finished, looking at the ceiling, unseeing. "You feel like if you can keep this balance, then maybe you can live with yourself…"

"And maybe other people's happiness could be enough for you. That maybe your happiness was past. Maybe you used yours up and you don't get another chance, because last time it was absolutely perfect." Harry sighed and tucked back a lock of hair that had fallen onto her cheek. She had taken down her braids after she and Fred became man and wife, and he told her on her wedding day that it suited her. It still did.

"You're going to have to stop reading my mind." Harry said semiseriously, tracing the graceful line of her cheek down to her neck, and felt her pulse flutter under his fingertips. "Can we be fixed?"

"Do we want to be?" Angelina asked him back, closing her eyes against the sensation of his finger drawing down her collarbone.

"I want you to be fixed." He spoke honestly before he realized it, and her eyes flew open once more, and for the first time in a while, he wasn't afraid to look back, because what he saw was what he felt.

"What about you?" She asked, and he was suddenly closer, and it didn't bother her. "Don't you want to be fixed?"

"It's easier to hope for someone else, than yourself. I stopped trying a long time ago." Harry was obsessed with her skin. He didn't want to stop touching it now that he was. How it was possible it could hold back such grief was impossible and intriguing at the same time. "I don't have to lie to you." It hung in the cold air of the early morning and her eyes fluttered shut as Harry's fingers touched the sensitive spot behind her earlobe.

"I don't have to pretend to be happy around you." Goodness… his eyes were greener than her comforter.

"You shouldn't have to pretend to be happy."

"You shouldn't have to lie to people."

"It's far easier than facing the truth." He wanted to kiss her now… that was realized a while ago. But what stopped him was that he felt that it would be taking advantage of her. And that was something he didn't want.

"You're going to stop blaming yourself. I see it you know. I carry the weight of one, and you carry all five thousand." Angelina reached up and touched his cheek and brought his face lower to hers. "I feel your grief like a burden."

"Sometimes I don't want to live." Harry confessed, and leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. It was chaste, gentle, and full of craving. Within that kiss they stripped away all that was built up to protect them from the world and themselves, revealing their soul to the quick. She pulled away as the last layer fell, and was ashamed of what he would see. He held her still, and with his eyes tried to tell her in his eyes, in all of her grief, she was beautiful.

"You have to find something to live for." Angelina sighed and kissed him again. "Something."

"Hypocrite." Harry couldn't get enough of her kisses; it was like diving into a refreshing pool, leaving everything behind that weighed his soul down. Breaking away for oxygen, he smiled at the look of desire on her face. It was nice to see when it wasn't beleaguered with awe of his fame. "You're gorgeous Angelina…"

"Flattery is nice to hear after such a long time." She said, pushing his hair back from his scar, which was as livid as ever. "You're a looker too."

"After such a long time? You, at the ripe old age of twenty three?" He teased, pulling her closer. Angelina leaned her head against his chest and closed her eyes.

"I feel old sometimes."

"I know. So do I." Harry smiled into her hair and enjoyed the closeness. The silence stretched until his eyes closed, asleep once more.

> > > > >

Angelina smiled and held out a cup of her strongest coffee as Harry stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing his head and groaning. "Good morning. Take this."

"I don't want coffee. I want to blot out the sun." He groused, sitting down at the table and putting his head in his arms.

"But you want this. It will wake you up." She tried again, setting it in front of him on the table. Harry pushed it away and groaned.

"I really am going to blot out the sun. Why do you sound so chipper?"

"Because I have learned to make the hang over cure." Before Angelina could say anything else Harry knocked back the contents of the mug as if it were salvation liquefied.

"Oh…bloody lovely. I could kiss you right now." He said happily before he realized. "I mean…"

"What do you want for breakfast? It's been ages since I've had an overnight visitor. It will be nice to cook something for a change." She changed the subject deftly, pulling out a frying pan. "I've got eggs… and ham. If you want I can whip up an omelet. I even have cheese, I'm sure. In the refrigerator. I have wine, so I know I have cheese." Angelina could have cursed. She was babbling now. Turning around, she dropped the pan, and Harry caught it. "You move entirely too quiet for your own good."

"It's something that's kept me alive." He put the pan on the counter and braced his arms on either side of her body. "Now, are we going to talk about what happened last night?"

"I shouldn't have drunk so much." That wasn't what she wanted to say, and the hurt she was allowed to see cut her audacity down to size.

"That's it then? We're going to blame it on the liquor then? Fine." Harry realized that came out a bit angrier than he thought he felt, but he kept her locked in between his arms. He was a good deal stronger now, due to the Auror training, and he looked her in the eye.

"Don't look at me like that."

"I thought I knew you." _I thought I knew your grief. _

"After one and a half drunken conversations?" Angelina said shakily, putting her hands on his forearms. She didn't remember him feeling this muscled before. He wasn't bulky, but he was fit… she could feel the strength in his arms, the way the cords were jumping underneath the sleeves.

"What are you playing at? I can't accept dodging from you…not anymore, not after last night." Stepping closer, Harry enjoyed the sound of her breath hitching in her throat. Her liquid brown eyes looked back at him with what he felt everyday, necessary restraint.

"What am I supposed to say?"

"The truth." He let his nose brush against hers, and Angelina didn't fight the urge to bring her hands to Harry's shoulders.

"The truth is, honestly, I haven't found myself so attracted to someone since." He didn't ask since what.

"Can we see where this goes?" She smelled nice, and at the hollow of her throat he enjoyed raking his teeth over the skin he found.

"Uh… no promises."

"No promises. No lies either." Angelina smiled and felt her pulse quicken as his hands left the counter and came to her hips. She could feel the heat from his hands through the thin black linen pants she wore.

"I promise no lies." An intended mangling of words.

"Can I kiss you now?" Harry asked; his self control almost shredded to pieces.

"I think so." He fell on her lips hungrily, as if she was nourishment, and Angelina welcomed him. When they pulled apart Harry was laughing, and she was smiling. "What's so funny?"

"My chest doesn't feel tight." She looked concerned.

"Does it always feel tight?"

"Usually. It's easier to exist at night."

"Isn't that the truth." Angelina rested her chin on his shoulder and sighed.

"What's wrong?" He asked, rubbing her back in slow circles.

"I just don't want to leave. But you have work, and today I promised Oliver that I would come and check out his plays for Puddlemere. I need to get going."

"Am I going to see you again?" The hesitancy in Harry's voice made her close her eyes.

"I said no promises."

"You also promised not to lie."

"We must be in a relationship, because you're already turning my words against me."

"So what's the answer?"

"Meet me here tonight, when you get off… or later if you want. Are you going to show up?" It was her turn to put her heart on the line.

"We'll see, won't we?"

"Don't be cruel."

"I'm sorry. My sarcasm has an edge that I need to work on. Of course I'll be here." Angelina pulled back and looked him in the eye.

"The key is under the mat. It has a simple charm on it, so only if I give verbal permission for you to enter, will you be able to even see the key."

"That's pretty sophisticated."

"I have had reason to fear what I didn't anticipate." She said dryly.

"Of course. Well, let me go."

"I'm not holding you here."

"That's not what I meant; it just came out that way. And yes, you are holding me here." He kissed her again briefly before shoving off of the counter and her body, and resolutely walking out of the room. Angelina held her breath as the steps became faint… and counted to five in her head before the door slammed. Harry was gone, and she was suddenly scared.

"Get a grip woman. You're a grown up. You're not allowed to fall to pieces." Smiling, she poured the rest of the coffee down the sink and tried to still the shaking in her hands. Excitement was a foreign feeling to her now. A laugh escaped her lips before she realized she was about to laugh… and the tightness in her chest became loose. The mug that sat forgotten in her hands dropped to the sink, and the _clunk _brought her back to reality.

> > > > >

"You still haven't told me what's bothering you."

"The beater formations are off." Angelina rubbed out the two routes and redrew them. "See, you were leaving the fourth plane open during the whole play. You've already told me that Stossel and Donovan cannot think on their broom. How they got this far I'll never know." Oliver's eyebrow was almost to his hairline.

"I'll have you know that on paper I've already corrected that."

"Of course you did." He glared at the ponytail that lay at the base of her skull until she turned around. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because you still haven't told me what's crawled up your arse."

"Stop looking at my arse."

"Why? You wore the pants, I didn't tell you to wear them." Oliver smiled and shrugged. "So what's wrong?"

"Nothing really… it's just… I…" Angelina laughed slightly and sat down next to him, slouching until she could rest her chin on her chest. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course." He turned to her and regarded her seriously. "I knew something was wrong."

"Not wrong per se… more like I want to know if something is wrong. I know it's been three years…" She laughed again, but tears were forming in her eyes. Wiping them away angrily, Angelina exhaled, angry with herself. "I don't know why I can't get this out without crying."

"Oh, Angie love…" Oliver knelt on the ground in front of her, taking her hands in his. "I know what you're gong to say."

"I'm a bad person, aren't I?"

"Why? Why would you think that?"

"Because it's been only three years." The tears were flowing freely now. He rubbed her arms and shook his head.

"No dearie, don't look at it like that. It's been three years since he's been taken from us, and you were only married two years."

"It seems like longer."

"I know."

"And shorter."

"Know that too." Oliver sighed and stood up, pulling Angelina with him. "I will personally kiss anyone who has made you smile, that has made you ask that question. Know without a doubt that Fred loved you, and you loved Fred."

"I do."

"Good. Now hang on to this bloke, whoever he is."

"Okay."

"So who is he?" She laughed and shook her head, wiping her nose on her hand. "Aye, Angelina, I do have a hanky… so you don't have to use the back of your hand. And such a pretty hand it is." Oliver rolled his eyes and produced said handkerchief with a flourish.

"I'm not telling. I don't want to spook him."

"I don't think I want you dating him if he scares that easily." She looked at him as if he were crazy.

"Do you honestly think I'm going to give you his name? You've let one too many bludgers at the old noggin."

"I'll find out."

"I'm sure you will. I'm seriously glad for you." Angelina sighed and hugged him happily.

"And the scariest part is Oliver… I am too."

> > > > >

"No way."

"But a best mate can tell these things. Someone's got you happy."

"Are you done?"

"No. You whistled!"

"And your point?"

"My point is that you actually look as if you're going to be civil to people today. Besides me, 'Mione, and Luna." Luna Lovegood stopped by the Ministry often to see her friends when she had a moment of relief from rotations at St. Mungos. Ron finished tying up his trainers and took a good look at Harry. "Did you get shagged last night?"

"Are you ready?" He asked irritably. "Senior Auror Whitman said the training exercise would start in ten minutes."

"So we have ten minutes."

"That was five minutes ago."

"Oh. So hurry up, and give me my one word answer. Yes or no."

"No."

"I don't believe you."

"You wouldn't. Come on." Ron allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, and they walked out of the locker room and down the hall to the training room. IT was a specifically designed to magically morph into almost any scenario imagined, complete with foes that acted on their own.

"He's going to want to pair us with someone else."

"He's been trying to do that for as long as we've been in training. It didn't work then, and it's not going to work now." Harry said firmly, pushing the big double doors that led to the room. "He should know that already."

"I should know what Mr. Potter?" Ron froze as they came face to face with their commanding officer. Senior Auror Verbatim Whitman was a man about Ron's height, with graying at the temples of his blond head. He wasn't muscular, but fit, on the same regimen as the Junior Aurors he trained.

"Sir?" Harry asked smoothly, raising an eyebrow in question.

"I believe you were saying I should know something by now." He shook his head and looked at the other man in the eye.

"Are you saying I misheard?" They had captured all the attention of the rest of the class. Ron sighed and looked down at his feet. What was this guy's problem?

"Yes sir." Harry said cheerfully. Whitman's nostrils flared and he stepped closer, intending on invading Harry's personal space. But his nose crashed into the shield he manifested. "Potter! Who told you to shield?" He yelled, after being forced to stumble backwards of fall down.

"I apologize sir. You'll have to forgive me, its habit." Ron smiled hugely, suppressing the laugh behind his lips.

"In line Potter."

"Of course sir." The spot next to Ron had been vacated upon his arrival, as normal, and Harry slid in, face inscrutable.

"Before we were so rudely interrupted, I was preparing you for the series we all call "worse case scenarios" There will be no way to get out of these situations with a total and clean win, so the object is to lose as little as possible. Got it? You'll be divided into teams of four. Pick your teams, and I suggest you try and pick people you normally won't find yourself paired with. Alright, find your partners and go to the observation deck. We'll watch each team's progress from there. I will be pointing out what each person is doing wrong to the class, and when the team is done, I'll give them the points that need improvement. Dismissed. Each team picks up a number before you go to the deck." Whitman turned and glanced down at his clipboard as everyone looked around for partners.

Ron smiled and pulled on the robes of a fellow Auror, Andais McCleary, and Harry nabbed a shy man, Douglas Rhodes, great with offensive hexes when he wasn't being yelled at. Rushing up to the observation deck, Harry looked down at the other teams forming slowly, and looked back at Ron. "I promise you, I don't want to do this today."

"But everyone's under the impression that the Great Harry Potter loves battle scenarios." Rhodes smiled, more at ease since he could safely watch Whitman from above.

"Yeah, you would think that." He retorted, letting his head lean against the transparent glass. Harry was hot under the collar… he wanted to see Angelina right now. This couldn't be good for him, dreaming about a woman at work. A woman with amazing hips and lips that wouldn't quit and… "What! What did you say Ron?"

"I said we have number 4. But watch, we're going to be either first or last." He looked at his friend strangely. "Where were you?"

"What do you mean?"

"He asked why you were so far away into your thoughts." McCleary asked, settling into one of the hard seats on the first row. Another group of four came in and found seats, and Harry, Ron and Douglas quickly sat down around Andais. The room started to change as the rest of the class found seats.

Harry was picking with the knee of his trousers when he heard Ron's strangled gasp. He looked up at his red headed friend in slight question until he followed his gaze. Standing up, his face was livid. "Alright, first up number 3. Like I said, just do your best." Whitman looked at Harry. "Mr. Potter, sit down unless you want your team to go first."

"We're not going down there. Don't you think it's kind of cruel?" Ron asked, pointing towards the grounds of Hogwarts as they looked in the middle of the last battle. Even down to the dead, Ron could recognize some of them. "We were there! We did all we could!"

"Did you now? So suddenly Mr. Weasley, you have the knowledge to encompass all human reaction and speculate as to how everyone in this room would take care of the situation?" Harry was breathing deeply in his chest, trying to fight the rise of the ghosts in his head, but he was failing. "Like I said, you and Mr. Potter can just sit down! This is a verified battle scenario, and we will use it for training!"

"No."

"Excuse me Mr. Potter?"

"I said no. I refuse."

"You don't have a choice. Either you do it or-" Harry reared back and smashed his fist into Whitman's mouth, smiling cruelly at the wetness of blood on his knuckles. The older man was knocked to the ground, and Harry was above him, fuming.

"I quit." Ron blinked as he walked out of the room, before sighing and shaking his head.

"This isn't right. After all he did, after all we did, and everyone we lost that day… you'd do this. I can't stay here either." Whitman wiped his mouth and spat out blood as Ron stepped over him and walked out of the exit.

"Don't think you can come back here after that! You can't just hit your commanding officer and think there won't be consequences!" Harry shook his head and slammed the door behind him.


	2. Consequences and Repercussions

"You what!"

"Quit." Hermione put her head in her hands and sighed heavily. "I'm sorry love; you weren't there, he-"

"I don't care what he did! You were only two evaluations from becoming a full Auror! Job security, a steady paycheck and everything! Doing something you love, although it scares me most of the time!" She snapped back. Ron raised an eyebrow and lifted her chin with his hand.

"Hermione, what are you not telling me?" There were tears in her eyes, and he knew that she wouldn't put that much stock in money. They saved enough of the pecuniary awards from their service to wizarding population of England to live comfortably for a while, or at least until Ron figured out what to do.

"I went to see Luna today." She sniffed, wiping her eyes with her sleeves.

"And?"

"And I'm pregnant."

"Oh." A sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach until Hermione pushed him away.

"You're not happy are you? I know this isn't the right time, but honestly, I didn't know, and you didn't tell me you were planning on quitting your job. And I wasn't trying to get pregnant, I swear, it just happened." She wrung her hands and flopped back onto the couch. "What are we going to do Ron? Parents at twenty? We never really got to be kids, how are we going to raise one on our own?"

"Well, we're not going to raise it on our own. It has two sets of wonderful grandparents to look forward to. Plenty of Aunts and Uncles and with a godfather like Harry, who could lose?" He said, rubbing her shoulders gently. Hermione smiled and shook her head.

"We're starting to think alike. I wanted Harry as her godfather as well." Ron stopped rubbing and looked down.

"Her? It's a girl?" Hermione laughed and nodded. "Wow… I'm going to have a daughter… _we're_ going to have a daughter." He corrected and kissed the top of her hair. "I can't wait to tell Harry."

"Why did you two quit?"

"You know the training exercises?" Hermione nodded.

"Minister Scurmigour and I have sat in on two of them. What about it?"

"They had a setting in a set called "worse case scenarios"… and they brought up Hogwarts."

"What in bloody hell was someone thinking?" She breathed, suddenly understanding. "They wanted you to go and do everything all over again?"

"Everyone was down there, and it was right after I had to kill Draco, and you were dueling with Nott." Ron sighed. "It took so long for me not to think about it. Don't I wish I could go back and do everything better… but I-"

"No Ron. There was nothing better that you could have done. They caught us by surprise. Come on, I have your lunch ready." He shook his head, already retreating into that day.

"No, I'm not hungry."

> > > > >

Angelina stared at Harry in shock, who was currently pacing in her parlor, fists clenched and eyes flashing. "At least let me tend to your hand."

"He just expected me to go out there and do everything all over again? See the people I had already failed and try and save the people who died in my arms all over again? What if I did succeed, and realize that I _was_ wrong then. I was never really trained… everything was by the seat of my pants!"

"You don't have to defend your actions to me Harry. Just let me look at your hand."

"And he just stood there like I shouldn't have a problem with it. They called it "worse case scenario" for a reason!" He continued to pace, all but ignoring her. Angelina nodded and stood up, grabbing him as he passed her once again.

"Harry, you're burning up with rage. You're skin is all hot and you're going to bleed on my white carpet in a second. Please let me look at your hand, and we can sit down and think about this rationally, okay?" She pleaded.

"You don't think I flew off of the handle did you?" Harry asked; his voice low. Angelina shook her head.

"I'm thinking you didn't hit him enough if it was only once. Someone would have had to pull me off of him. What I am saying is that there should be some sort of recourse. This really isn't your fault."

"I know that." He snapped, and Angelina dropped his hand and walked out of the door. He felt bad the second her ponytail disappeared around the corner. The click of her slippers faded, and Harry walked over to the doorway. "I'm sorry! It's just… I… I don't know." She came out of the kitchen with a small bottle, and slid past him to sit on the loveseat.

"I don't want your apology, just sit down." Patting the seat next to her, she opened the bottle and Harry recoiled as he sat down and presented his hand.

"Ugh, that stuff still smells horrible."

"At least it doesn't sting as bad as it used to." Angelina poured some of the potion onto the cloth and with soft strokes rubbed away the blood and closed the teeth marks. Harry held up his hand and it was as good as new.

"Thanks."

"No problem. I know you didn't want to quit." He shook his head.

"I didn't, but I wasn't going to go through that… that…."

"Blasphemous situation?"

"That's exactly how it felt."

"I know." She stood up and took the bottle with her, and Harry leaned back, closing his eyes. He smelled her scent before she came back in again… and it reminded him of evergreens when something nice and cold was pressed into his hand. "It's just wine this time. I didn't want to remember… just forget."

"Are you going to drink with me?" He asked, taking a large swallow and enjoying the feeling of emotion leaving him as the liquid flowed down his throat. Angelina produced the bottle and a goblet for herself.

"If you'll have me."

> > >

Angelina woke up suddenly, unfamiliar with the heavy weight that was lying across her abdomen. The crick in her neck told her that she had fallen asleep on the floor again, and the fire was shining through the empty green wine bottle. Harry was lying beside her on his stomach, and out of the corner of her eye she saw their empty glasses they were drinking from… spinning on their sides beside the bottle. "Harry?" He looked over at her and they stopped spinning.

"I'm sorry. I can't control it sometimes, and it comes out in stupid ways." She sat up and really looked at him, blinking against the fickle light of the fire.

"How long have you been able to do that?"

"Since I choked the life out of Voldermort." Harry still hadn't let her waist go, and Angelina hesitated half a second before patting his arm in comfort. "I'm sorry; if I touch someone, then I don't have to go through all the nightmares. I didn't want to let go right then."

"But you don't like touching people."

"And that's been the problem."

"Do you want to talk?" She asked slowly, stretching and flipping over onto her stomach. He pulled her closer, and they both stared into the fire, eyes not quite watching the flame.

"I don't know."

"What are you thinking right now?"

"How easy it would be to crush Senior Auror Whitman. From here." Angelina swallowed at the serious tone in his voice.

"You're not just joking, are you?"

"I don't know. That's the thing. I don't want to talk about this right now."

"Decided what you're going to do about your job?" She sat up and enjoyed the warmth as it spread along her back. "You could stay here with me for a moment, and think things over."

"As much as I'd like to, I'm going to have to go back to my flat. I know for a fact that Ron's been over four times, and Hermione's been over three. They're worried." Angelina blanched slightly.

"Um… they don't know that you're here, do they?" Harry shook his head and rolled over so that his head was in her lap. "Good."

"Does anyone know I'm over here?"

"I couldn't tell anyone."

"Couldn't?"

"Didn't want to. People complicate things. They ask questions that I don't want to answer, let alone know the answers for. It's just better this way. Did you tell anyone about me?" Harry shook his head again and sighed.

"We're cowards."

"What are we cowards about? What do we have? Physical attraction and morbid appreciation for each other's grief?" Angelina groaned and threw her head back. "See, I don't drink wine much, because it gets me depressed. No wait, that's life."

"You _do_ need to stop drinking so much." He looked up at her and stared her full in the face. "Look, I'm not afraid of you."

"You're not afraid of anything, are you?"

"Yes. I'm afraid of myself. I'm afraid of the things that I've done that I haven't told anyone about. Even Ron and Hermione." Angelina smiled slightly.

"I need a drink."

"No you don't. You drink at night because that's when the memories come back. I drink during the afternoon because I've had to deal with the screams all day. If we caved into it we'd never see each other." Harry sat up as she moved her legs slightly. He watched her stand, and reach angrily for the bottle.

"Don't tell me what to do. I'm not your child."

"Which is very good… considering I think it's horrible for a father to try and look down his daughter's shirt." Angelina stopped and gaped at him in disbelief.

"What?" She doubled over laughing, dropping the bottle onto the carpet before falling to her knees. "You're not serious."

"Oh please." Harry laughed slightly, but he was really serious. "Just curiosity; I am a guy."

"I noticed. Come on, are you hungry?" He nodded and jumped to his feet.

"Now that I think about it, I haven't had anything to eat today." Shaking his head unsteadily, Harry stretched and popped his neck and followed Angelina to the kitchen, where she opened the fridge and peered inside. "What do you have?"

"Do you fancy a midnight omelet, or more wine… I have two bottles of firewhiskey, some muggle vodka and some left over lasagna. What will it be?" She turned around and ran into Harry's chest. "You have to stop sneaking up on me."

"I enjoy it though." Angelina rolled her eyes and gestured into the refrigerator. "I guess the lasagna." He reached around her and grabbed the dish. "I'll heat it." She looked at him with a soft smile playing on her lips.

"Then go right ahead." Harry smiled and looked her in the eyes, and suddenly Angelina felt as if she were in front of a roaring fire, enveloping her body. It was over as quickly as it started. "Cute." She fanned herself and closed the refrigerator. "It's hot in here."

"I didn't want it to be just me." Harry pulled out two plates and divided the lasagna.

"I'm going to change. I've been in these clothes entirely too long." He nodded and bit his lip, not turning around. _Interesting, I was thinking the same thing. _Turning around, she was gone, and Harry smiled. He wasn't the only one who could move silently.

Half the lasagna was gone from his plate before Angelina returned, and he yawned and smiled as she slid into the chair next to him. "Is it good?" She asked, picking up her fork and digging in.

"Yes, better than I thought. Or maybe I'm just hungry and my expectations are low."

"That could be." She felt sort of round the bend now. On the way up the stairs, it was all she could do to keep her clothes on before reaching her room… Harry's heating charm was definitely affecting more than the food. Slapping on a purple tank top and a pair of black shorts, suddenly she felt kind of undressed.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked shrewdly. Angelina shrugged and didn't look at him, preferring to stab at her food. "I'm sorry. Like I said, I'm told I act sort of stupid sometimes, and I can't help but show off inappropriately."

"You sound like you hear that often."

"Well, Hermione said that I haven't gone through the natural grieving process, so my real feelings come out in unexpected power surges and inappropriate thoughts and behavior." Angelina smiled slightly.

"I've been told that my drinking problems stems from my inability to deal with the present, so I'm just a run of the mill alcoholic."

"Nothing about you is run of the mill." He said seriously. "We're both spectacularly screwed up. At least people aren't afraid of you."

"Well… you are a bit intimidating sometimes."

"To you?" Harry felt that familiar sinking feeling. Angelina laughed, throwing her head back and pounding on the table with her fist.

"My god, you sound like a two year old. Of course not. In your own words, "you don't scare me." That's rich…" She snorted and continued eating. Harry didn't know wither to be happy or sour, and decided for indignant.

"I am scary you know. I'm the great Harry Potter."

"I know. I've been thinking."

"About what?"

"About you getting your job back." He looked at her and put down his fork.

"Well?"

"Well, you know the ball? The St. Mungos' fund raising ball?"

"What about it?"

"Well, my parents are throwing it this year. My mother is on the board. We're having it at one of our houses, and you can come." She smiled as if that explained the whole plan.

"Tell me there's more." Angelina nodded.

"Of course there is. As you would think, the Minister of Magic himself, Rufus Scurmigour."

"But I could talk to him anytime I wanted."

"Yes, but with an audience? Whitman will be there too. My father has had him over a few times. He came over personally to talk about security, especially since… anyway, he's a pompous ass."

"That sounds like Whitman." Harry said cheerfully, enjoying the memory of his hand smashing into the man's mouth over and over and over… "What did you say?"

"I said, you come to the ball, and then embarrass the man in public." Angelina smiled and threw up her hands. "Ta da!"

"I couldn't do that. That's not my style." He groused, pushing his plate away. "That's kind of petty."

"But it's all in the name of righteous fury. Besides, if you don't embarrass him, you'll have to deal with him sooner or later. Rather sooner and in public, where you have the upper hand. Besides, you _did_ hit your commander."

"I know. It was one of the best moments of my life." Harry sighed and looked at his watch. "I'll think about it. These balls really aren't my scene, and I give plenty of donations to St. Mungos without them."

"I know, but that's not the point. The point is you're going to talk to the Minister about the stupid little twit Whitman is, and he can't do a thing about it, because he's not going to risk his "reputation" so to speak around the high society types. He's a pureblood whose family fortune ran out about three generations ago… but that doesn't mean he didn't grow up with the urge and thirst for money and power. And he's jealous of you."

"How do you know that?" He asked, fascinated. Angelina brushed it off.

"I'm a woman, we can tell these things."

"Oh, well, _excuse_ me. What time is it?"

"There's a clock on the wall." Harry looked over to the far wall and squinted.

"I think I need a new prescription. It's almost three in the morning."

"Well, you don't have work. Will you come back later?"

"Sure. Would you like to go do something?"

"No. But let's do something anyway." He looked at her strangely.

"I don't want to force you to do anything you know…" she nodded.

"I know. But I said I wouldn't lie to you. I don't want to leave the house, but I do. I don't really want to do anything but drink my memory away… but I don't want to become weak. So take me somewhere where no one knows us, and we can go do something."

"Sounds good to me. I'm going to head home. Are you going to be okay?" Harry asked, standing up reluctantly.

"Yes. I've been in this big house alone for a whole year. Another night isn't going to be as bad as it once was." Angelina stood up as well, and gave him a big hug. "I kind of don't want you to leave though."

"I don't want to leave either, but I have to go. If I stay, I'll end up doing something improper."

"You weren't inappropriate last night."

"You weren't wearing those shorts last night either. I like your legs." Angelina smiled and kissed Harry quickly.

"You better go. I'll talk to you tomorrow." He nodded and hugged her tightly, hoping that would be enough to get a good night sleep.

> > > > >

Hermione looked at Harry as he walked through the door. He wasn't surprised to see her reclined on the couch, but he didn't want to hear what she had to say. "I heard what happened."

"I don't want to talk about it right now Hermione. It's almost three fifteen in the morning. Why aren't you home?"

"I wanted to talk to you." She said, sitting up and moving her legs off of the couch so Harry could sit beside her.

"I don't want to be lectured right now, or ever about what happened." He warned. Hermione held up her hand and shook her head.

"I promise, that was the furthest thing from my mind. I'm actually proud of you. Proud of you both."

"Really?"

"Yes. I understand how hard it was to walk out. It's been your dream to be an Auror for so long. I'm just sorry that Whitman came between you and that dream." She took his hand and sighed. "So how are you holding up?"

"I don't know. I don't think it will hit me until tomorrow morning."

"That's understandable. I'm going to talk to the Minister tomorrow. It's not right what happened."

"Don't do that."

"Why not! That's the very least that could happen… you get to have your dream job without some thankless jerk breathing down your neck." Harry looked at her briefly.

"You don't sound like yourself. You sound… you sound like Ron."

"Well, he is my husband." Hermione said irritably. "Look, I'm going to see what I can do."

"I appreciate that Hermione." She pushed him playfully.

"What are friends for?" He thought about it for a moment.

"Eternal embarrassment and laughter?"

"Try again. I'll see you later. Want to come to dinner at the flat tomorrow?"

"I might be able to come by… but I think I might do something."

Hermione laughed before she realized Harry was serious. "Oh. You have plans. So what are you doing?"

"I'm just going to be out."

"Oh. Alright then. If possible tomorrow, could you come and check on Ron while I'm at work? Yesterday's events really shook him." _He's not the only one. _Harry nodded and yawned.

"Sure. I'll come over in the morning."

> > > > >

"How about horseback riding?"

"I have two horses at my parent's estate. That's not really something interesting anymore. Ice skating?"

"I can't understand the logic of someone trying to stand on ice with blades strapped to uncomfortable shoes. Besides, I don't ice skate anymore."

"Why not?"

"Because that's where I promised Ginny I'd marry her." Angelina smiled sadly.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not. I loved her dearly. More than life itself probably."

"I understand. Dating is difficult." Harry sighed and nodded. "Did you get some sleep last night?"

"Sort of. I had a lot on my mind."

"I know. How was Ron doing?"

"He's doing better today than yesterday, but in some ways worse. He's starting to doubt whether or not he did all he could do."

"But he mounted a brilliant defense of Hogwarts. Even the Auror tactical advisors praised his strategy."

"I know that. But all he sees is the mistakes he made."

"Sounds like someone I know."

"But it's different. He's-"

"He's what? Not you?" She sighed and looked out over the balcony. They were at her house yet again, trying to figure out where to go and what to do, and muster up the courage to go do it. Harry looked at her from across the stone table and raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know." He admitted. "I just know he did all he could, and I didn't do all I could."

"Harry, you're doing it again. Trying to take all the guilt and keep it for yourself, so that other people can move on. I think that you're still trying to save everyone. You did what many couldn't do, many wouldn't do. You took a life so that others may live, and you were willing to sacrifice your own life to do so."

"I just wish…" Angelina nodded.

"I was at the hearing when they denied you a time turner."

"They were being spiteful since during my fifth year we ended up destroying the inventory they had. It wasn't our fault. God, we were so young." He looked out over the wintry wonderland and shrugged. "I'm out of ideas."

"So am I. We've both been shooting down each other's suggestions for almost forty five minutes."

"Because they involve unpleasant situations for one or the other." Harry looked back at her and hesitated.

"What?"

"Well, what did you and Fred do on your first date? Not that I want to do the same, just because I'm curious." The look on her face made him regret asking. "I'm sorry; I put my foot in my mouth yet again. You don't have to-"

"We went to the kitchens at Hogwarts."

"What?" Harry asked, confused.

"Fred and I went to the kitchens at Hogwarts. After everyone was sleep we snuck down and convinced the house elves that we only wanted half of what they were trying to give us. They're very enthusiastic to anyone who comes to visit them." Angelina smiled and looked up at the sky. "It was the beginning of our fourth year, second day of school, and already we were endeavoring to get into trouble."

"That was a date?"

"That's the wonderful thing about Fred. He could turn the most amazing things into the most normal, and the most normal into the amazing." She laughed and sighed, truly happy. "I told him that we can't keep sneaking out at night, with my not having a boyfriend, people would talk."

"Oh no… I can only imagine what he said."

"He told me that no one would think it weird that I'm out with my boyfriend. Actually they'll just be wondering what we're doing." Harry laughed and shook his head. "And just like that he had asked me out. So our little foray was our first date. He even let me actually take a bite of a treacle tart before smashing it into my face. Such a gentleman. We didn't go public, so to speak, until later."

"Unfortunately for me, my relationship started quite publicly."

"Yes… Fred told me the day after it happened, who heard it from Ron. He was surprised it took so long to begin with. He would go on and on about how enamored she was with you."

"I just didn't want to see it. Besides, it sort of came out of the blue for me… then crept up and clubbed me on the head." They both laughed slightly. "See, I can't talk about her with other people. They start to cry."

"The only person who can stand to hear me talk about Fred is George. He and I get together sometimes, after Alicia's is sleep, and talk about the gaping hole in our lives. I lost my husband, but he lost a part of himself. After the funeral he was so upset he would slip into instances where he thought he was Fred." Angelina sighed. "He knew things he couldn't possibly."

"Ginny and I were expecting a baby."

"Pardon?"

"She said she thought she was pregnant. The first and last time we had sex."

"Oh my."

"Indeed. I… I told her to keep it a secret, because if Voldermort found out, he would take her from me, and I wouldn't be held responsible for what I was going to do." Harry rubbed his temples and brushed a snow flurry from the table surface. "I told her to get a test."

"And it was positive?"

"She didn't get to tell me. That was the day before the attack. Hermione woke up that night and told me that something horrible was going to happen. It's a little strange for her to say something like that, because she's never put stock in Divination, but she was distraught. She wouldn't go back to sleep. It freaked me out, and Ron knew that something was going to happen. We talked to McGonagall, who was going to authorize a-"

"I know the rest. Fred and I were in Hogsmeade, looking at the possibility of another shop, since Diagon Alley was such a smash. Fred wouldn't let me into the Order, but when he received the call for help, he wouldn't leave me behind. A piece of him died that day, when Ginny fell."

"A piece of me did too. I don't want to talk about this anymore. I hate it. I hate that she's gone and I'm still here. I wanted to kill myself many times."

"Did you ever do it?" Angelina asked lowly. Harry looked at her and nodded mutely.

"I tried twice. The last time I almost did it. I blacked out, and then she came to me and said that I can't kill myself, because I'm still needed. That my family will be waiting for me when I'm able to rest. But that's a long way away… and that my son is going to look down and watch his father be a good man." He watched the tears fall down Angelina's face, and shrugged. "I couldn't ignore that. I always promised Ginny I would listen to her. That was one of her biggest fears, that she wouldn't be heard."

"Oh Harry… we say we're going to do something, and we end up talking about the bad stuff."

"I guess we're around people who can't or don't want to hear it, and when we get around each other… it just pours out." She nodded and wiped her face. "Do you want to go flying? I have two of the new Stratus 334."

"How did you get those?" Harry was intrigued. "They don't come out for another two months. I know, because I've placed the first order and mine is coming in a week." Angelina laughed slightly and shrugged.

"My father knows the owner of the company. Somehow he managed to get his hands on four. Two of my cousins have them, and one is for me."

"The other?"

"…Fred."

"Are you sure you want me riding it?"

"He wouldn't mind."

> > > > >

"Sir, might I have a word with you?" Minister Scurmigour looked up from his papers and smiled tightly.

"Mrs. Weasley, yes of course. Have a seat." He motioned for her to take the somewhat imposing chair in front of the large desk. Hermione obliged, and handed him a memo.

"Sir, before we start, the Swiss Ministry has agreed to meet with you in two weeks. Is that suitable?"

"Yes it is. Make sure Minister Verena is clear that we will not be dancing the night away this time. It's all business."

"I'm sure she'll be crushed. Sir, what I wanted to address is the regretful display of disrespect that transgressed just yesterday."

"You're talking about the altercation between Senior Auror Whitman and Harry Potter, to which Mr. Potter and your husband have now left the program, correct?"

"Yes sir. It is unfair the training exercise they were being asked to participate in. Surely sir, you can understand their unique position."

"Considering the serious nature of the transgression, do you honestly expect me to have him reinstated with no consequences?" Scurmigour looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "You've worked here long enough to know that I am all about consequences."

"And sir, what about Whitman? He was out of order, surely you must see that!" Hermione said calmly, feeling anything but inside. "He asked my best friend and my husband to participate in a recreation of a battle they were integrally linked."

"Mrs. Weasley, you were there. Tell me, you don't believe it to be a valuable training session?" She looked at him for a second and smiled.

"Sir, I believe if anyone was going learn from the way I managed to stab Theodore Nott Junior with his own wand, I would let them have at it. But my statement, and Harry's, and Ron's are all located in the Hall of Records. You personally viewed the pensives and denied Harry the time turner so that he could make a difference, sooner. What would you have done?"

"I, Mrs. Weasley, would have reported Whitman. Mr. Potter has continuously refused to work with this administration. If he had been more obliging, then I would not hesitate to reinstate him. But as to your husband, he could be restored."

Hermione took a deep breath and steadied herself. "And what would be required for that reinstatement?" The Minister of Magic smiled.

"That's why I hired you for my personal assistant. You're remarkably insightful."

> > > > >

"I'm going to have to do what?" Ron asked, not quite trusting his hearing. "You've got to be kidding."

"Ron, you should think about it. He's right; I'm the one who hit Whitman." Harry said heavily. He was just feeling above the clouds just a moment ago, before Hermione arrived home looking white lipped with anger. "All you have to do is apologize."

"For what? That was wrong!"

"And the peculiar thing is that the Minister agrees, but he won't take action against Whitman because he feels that the position of Senior Auror will lose its respect. Even if we concede the case of one of our most famous aurors." She mimicked the man with an air of viciousness.

"I don't want you getting fired for pushing this Hermione." Ron said heavily. "You've wanted a job like this too long for you to throw it down the drain for something stupid."

"Anything that you do, I will support. That's what a wife is for. How could I think what you did was stupid? It's them that's being stupid, that's what's going on." Hermione looked at Harry briefly. "Where have you been? Your cheeks are red."

"Just flying. I wanted to clear my head. I guess something or someone listened when I said I wanted a vacation."

"Don't say that Harry."

"What do you want me to say? Minister Scurmigour is intent on punishing me because I won't be his little walking advertisement."

"I don't know. I don't know what to do anymore."

"We wanted you to come over because we had good news for you." Ron said ruefully. Harry perked up slightly at those words.

"What is it?" Hermione took Ron's hand and smiled.

"We're-"

"Going to have a baby." Harry finished to their surprise.

"How did you know?" Ron asked, scratching his head. "I just found out yesterday!"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "I just guessed."

"Great guess." Hermione looked at him appraisingly. "But you took the surprise away from the expectant mother. You'll have to pay with ice cream."

"And he should, being the godfather and all." Harry blinked and smiled.

"Are you sure?"

"What do you mean, are we sure?" Ron shook his head and looked around playfully. "What would you think if we picked someone else?"

"That it's probably safer."

"Harry, the war is over. We still have people to find, but for the most part, we're stable. Or as stable as we're going to be. I think I would like to give my daughter the best chances at life, which means that she'll have a godfather who I know will take care of her if something were to happen to us." Hermione rubbed her stomach protectively.

"Well?" Ron asked, shaking Harry from his reverie.

"Well what?"

"You're going to have to accept mate!" Ron laughed at the look on his face. "So will you or won't you?"

"What! Of course I will. I'm honored!" Hermione took his hand and smiled at Harry and her husband.

"Our family is growing."

> > > > >

"Well?"

"We need to stop meeting like this." Harry looked at his glass and then back up at Angelina. She cocked her head in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we're avoiding people. Hermione says that's not healthy."

"We're going to the ball. We are, aren't we?" He looked up at her again, somewhat surprised.

"Together?"

Angelina thought for a second. "Um… I don't know."

"I would like to." Harry admitted. "But you don't have to if you don't want to."

"I do, but what would people think?"

"The Angelina I knew wouldn't care." She laughed hollowly.

"I don't know if I'm that Angelina still."

"You are."

"I guess I am. What are you going to wear?"

"Clothes." Angelina choked on her wine and laughed.

"Oh Harry."


	3. Stepping Out of Shadow

"The caterers were giving me problems, but after I explained that I wouldn't renew their services for the Christmas and New Year's parties, they gave in to what I wanted."

Angelina looked at her mother briefly. "How many galleons are you spending to throw this?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about that. Just know that your father think it's worth every Knut because you'll be coming. You haven't changed your mind have you?"

"No Mum."

"Good. Do you want me to send over Geraldine? She's coming over to make sure my gown is perfect. I don't want you showing up in jeans and a quidditch shirt."

"I know it would make your day if I did mother."

"I'm sending Geraldine over. You haven't had anything new done in a while.' Viviane Johnson smiled at her daughter, looking almost like her twin.

"I'm not going to fight you mother."

"Angelina, I want you to know that I'm not forcing you to go. I… I… just hope that you want to go. Past the fact that it's a good cause, and that you'll see quite a few of your friends. I just remember you liked to come to these gatherings."

"Mum, I never really liked going. A bunch of pretentious people who could state how far back their families are, and how much their holdings have grown."

"Fine. I remember when you didn't mind going. Are you bringing a date?"

"A date? I don't' know." Angelina sighed and finished her hot cocoa. "Maybe."

"That's wonderful." Viviane smiled and leaned forward. "What is his name?"

"I'm not telling."

"Angelina."

"Mum…"

"Don't interrogate the girl, Viv. I'm just glad she's coming." Roderick Johnson closed the parlor doors behind him. "How are my two favorite women doing this afternoon?"

"Fine dear." Mrs. Johnson smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

"Good. Have you been spending my money?"

"Yes dear."

"Of course. Angelina sweetie… nice to see you today. You look well."

"Hullo Daddy." He kissed her on the forehead and sat next to her mother on the loveseat.

"So you're coming?"

"How did you know?"

"Your mother was going to make it her project." Angelina looked dismayed.

"Oh mother, you weren't." She asked, turning back to her.

"I cannot deny that I don't want you pining away at the Aberdeen House. It took two weeks for you to allow me to send over the house elves to air out the place. I still say if you insist on staying there, let us just go ahead and refurnish it."

"Viviane, please." Mr. Johnson saw the look on his daughter's face and intervened.

"Fine. I'll leave it alone." She said, raising a slim hand gracefully.

"Thank you." He smirked slightly and picked up a cup of tea. "So you're coming?"

"Yes."

"Good." Mr. Johnson smiled and left it at that.

> > > > >

Hermione opened the door, looking harassed. "What are you so happy about?" she asked, stepping aside. Harry shrugged and walked in, taking off his cloak and gloves.

"I can't be happy?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. It's been a long day. Molly came over."

"Ah."

"I have never felt so henpecked before in my life."

"Where's Ron?"

"The Burrow, talking to his father. Arthur was here before, but he had some work he had to pick up. They're probably talking about what happened." She sighed and picked up a notebook. "I have so much work to do. The Minister is trying to turn the St. Mungos fundraiser into a support rally."

"I have the deepest sympathy. "Harry said dryly, pouring Hermione some pumpkin juice and himself half juice half firewhiskey. "So, are you going?"

"To the ball? Of course. Minister Scurmigour is going to want every piece of information at his fingertips… which means having it at my fingertips."

"So you're not going to enjoy yourself?"

"Oh please."

"What's wrong?" he asked, noticing her agitation after trying to ignore it.

"Molly."

"You knew that as soon as you found out you were pregnant, you would become her favorite subject."

"She wants me to quit too!" Hermione punched Harry in the arm playfully as he laughed. "It's not funny!"

"I'm sorry. You're right. Except this was what we talked about."

"I know."

"She wants what's best for you."

"She wants me in the bed with my feet up and something cool on my forehead."

"I think Ron would be receptive to that idea."

"He wouldn't dare."

"I wouldn't dare what?" They both turned around to see Ron smiling.

"Nothing." Hermione waved him off with a smile. "How's your father's work coming?"

"Good." He held up some wildflowers." For you." She beamed and stood, taking the bouquet and kissing him briefly.

"She's _your_ mother." Was all Hermione said. Ron looked at Harry from over Hermione's head.

"What?"

"She's your mother." Ron again looked at Harry, who looked into his glass.

"I do believe when you accepted the ring, she became yours too." He said, kissing her forehead.

"Don't remind me." Ron sighed heavily as Hermione went to the kitchen to put the flowers in water. Harry scooted over for him to sit down on the couch.

"So how's your father?"

"Fine."

"Good. Why'd you go over?" Harry looked at Ron, who took his glass and gulped down the rest his drink.

"No reason. Does a man need a reason to visit his father?" The silence stretched on for five more seconds.

"You panicked."

"Big time." Harry laughed and snatched back his empty glass.

'You have to make your own Wicked Witch."

"Harry, no one makes them like you."

"Because I make them all the time, practice makes perfect." Ron leaned back and rubbed his face briskly.

"What in bloody hell am I going to do?" He asked, half wailing. "We're not old enough to raise a kid. Hell, I can't even remember to pick up my socks in the morning. What kind of father am I going to be?"

"The type of father who has to be yelled at to pick up his socks?" Harry ventured. "Look, no one is perfect, but honestly, I can't think of one thing you haven't done that you thought you weren't ready for. All I'm saying is that yes, she's going to be somewhat bonkers, with Hermione being her mother… and somewhat loony with you being her father… and seriously screwed with me being her godfather… so you won't have to take all the blame when she comes out an obsessive overachiever who loves to eat… with a death wish."

"Don't joke like that."

"Sorry. So you have nothing to worry about, okay?" Ron nodded feebly. "Good. Now let's make you a Wicked Witch."

> > > > >

"We'll meet each other there." Angelina nodded, looking down at the gown she was trying on.

"Okay, that sounds good." Harry watched as she turned around slightly, and found himself smiling.

"Are you going to wear that?"

"I don't think so. I don't think that purple is my color."

"Madam would look wonderful in whatever she chose." Geraldine said as she waved her wand. Her trunk opened and five more gowns floated in midair, turning slightly.

"What do you think Harry?" He shrugged and appeared apologetic.

"Well, I don't like any of those."

"Neither do I." Angelina stepped off of the modeling stool and turned around once more. "Did you bring any other gowns?"

"No, but why are you letting sir color your choices? I've been your family's seamstress for many years… and you've always rejected the opinions of others." Harry watched Angelina stare at Geraldine until she bowed and apologized. "I'm sorry Madam. I was being forward."

"I'll come and see what you have at your shop. We're done for today." She said, tapping the sleeve of the dress she was wearing with her wand, and it dissolved into nothingness, revealing the white jumper and jeans she wore underneath.

"Alright Madam, I'll see you when you arrive." Angelina held a stiff smile until the seamstress had packed up and excused herself yet again. "Ugh, I hate how some people think they can just interject their opinions into everything just because they adjusted your Hogwarts robes over the years."

"Don't you think you're being a little mean?"

"No. My father doesn't pay her to stick her nose in my business." Harry started to say something but just nodded. That's true. "So where are you getting your robes?"

"I don't know. Maybe Gladrags. But like I said, I don't know."

"Don't leave it to the last minute."

"I won't _mother_." He said testily, and Angelina looked slightly taken aback. "I don't know about this whole ball thing."

"Why? You were on board just a moment ago!"

"That was before I realized it could go horribly wrong. I have a temper. I don't like the current Minister of Magic. Those don't mix, as far as I'm concerned." She nodded and rubbed her shoulder.

"I'll make sure you don't lose your temper, I promise." Harry scratched his head and laughed.

"You're going to have a lot on your hands."

> > > > >

"Wolfric? Hullo mate!"

"Harry, how are you?"

"Fine, and you?"

"Absolutely fabulous. I came to pick up Luna and my robes." Wolfric Rhodes was an eccentric wizard with shoulder length grey hair, making him appear older than the twenty four years he had been on the planet.

"Where is she by the way? I haven't seen her in a while."

"She's been doing double shifts at St. Mungos all last week, and this week she hasn't had the same shift twice. She comes home and then she fall unconscious."

"Why is she so busy?"

"She wants a good review for when the board gives her consideration for promotion. She has a brilliant mind that has allowed her to heal many patients deemed incurable."

"It's the way she thinks. Luna doesn't see things the way we do. The way most people do." Harry smiled and shook his head. "How has the nightmares been?"

"I told her she should consider Obliviation. I believe it was a bad idea. My face stung for a week and she didn't speak to me for almost twice as long." Wolfric sighed. "Her father's health is fading."

"I came to visit him a week ago. Is there nothing that can be done?"

"No. Luna says he misses her mother."

"I can understand that." Harry looked around in the uncomfortable silence. "So how is work coming?"

"Well, today I managed to complete the two step today, and we're on to the Foxtrot and the Waltz. I'm sure you're in the market for your very own-"

"No, no. I wouldn't know what to do with them."

"Well, the beautiful thing is that when a party comes around you're well prepared. Imagine that beautiful music starts and you wow your guests with your own amazing-" Wolfric broke off and looked around wildly. Harry was standing in front of him one second with that oddly blue face he sometimes got, and then was gone… again. Oh well.

> >

Katie turned around and gasped. "When did you get here?" Harry shook his head and threw a look over his shoulder.

"Hullo Katie. How are you? And Lee and the children?" He asked, ignoring her question. Mrs. Jordan beamed and hefted a toddler from her arms.

"I have Leila with me today, and Everett is with his father. He's started with his first sentences, and Lee's driving me up the wall with his ego. I swear it's as if he birthed the child himself." Harry laughed and tugged on Leila's sleeve as he knelt down in front of the small girl.

"How are you doing Leila?"

"I'm fine." She said as she hid behind her mother's skirt.

"She's going through a shy phase right now."

"I was wondering. By now she'd be in my arms." Harry shrugged and gestured up the alley. "Have you been to the store today?"

"Yep. Said hi to Alicia and George when I dropped off my men. Angelina's there." Katie looked around and missed Harry's expression. "Kind of an impromptu reunion of the Quidditch team."

"So it seems. I have to go get my robes for that St.Mungos ball that's tonight. Are you coming?"

"Didn't donate enough to get invited to the ball."

"Didn't Angelina tell you her parents are throwing it this year? I'm sure you could come."

"But I don't want to Harry, please don't make me." He laughed and threw up his hands.

"Alright, I won't force you."

"Thank you. Well, we have to be off, the Apothecary is calling me."

"Oh, right. I don't want to keep you."

"See you Harry."

"Bye Katie." He waved the dark haired witch off and walked down the street towards Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The little bell tinkled in midair, and two women came up to him with measuring tapes, huge smiles, and heaving bosoms.

"Can I help you?" The blond asked flirtatiously, before receiving a bow in the side from the brunette next to her.

"Now Cassandra, I saw him first."

"But Dorvina, you helped the hold man who left five minutes ago. It's my turn!" Cassandra hissed back.

"But you're engaged."

"So what?"

"Ladies!" Madam Malkin clapped her hands, and her grim expression caused the girls to flee cringing. "I'm sorry Mr. Potter. They're new and still… enthusiastic."

"That's the word for it. How are you doing Madam?" Harry asked, smiling once again.

"Business is always good before an event. Am I correct that you've come looking for robes for the St. Mungos Ball?"

"Yes." Harry ran his fingers through his hair, displaying his scar briefly before the dark length flopped back over to its customary position. "I waited until the last minute unfortunately."

"You always do. Well, I have some marvelous emerald robes that will go with your eyes dear."

"I want to stay away from green. It would leave the night open to ghastly compliments about my eyes."

"Well, who can see them dear? Your hair touches your glasses these days." Harry followed her to bolts of fabric located in the back.

"It's made it easier to come out in public. No one knows what I look like unless they can see my scar. Which makes me wonder why your employees rushed me like that, since most don't know it's me until they look at my forehead."

"Well, you're a handsome man with no ring in your finger. That looks like he has some money at that. So they're going to be interested." She pointed at a pile of rose colored fabric. "No rose?"

"No."

"No yellow either?"

"Absolutely not."

"White?"

"Pardon?"

"Purple."

"Heavens no." He shuddered.

"Blue?"

"I'd rather not."

"You're being slightly difficult."

"I am not. You're asking me to dress like a flower. Who do you think I am, Lockhart?" Harry asked; pained. "Do you have any more… masculine colors left?"

"Well, we could go with unimaginative black." Madam Malkin said sourly, pointing towards a row of black bolts. Harry brightened and nodded.

"Perfect."

> > > > >

Harry waved yet again and pulled the door closed, feeling the sharp contrast of the warm shop and the exceedingly cool air that was outside. The pre-Hogwarts rush was finished months ago, and only parents with small children were out, doing their Christmas shopping. It was nice, and with the sky overcast and the air clear of snow, and he found himself walking up the alley towards Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. The store looked the same, and with this being the busy season, the line was wrapped around the front of the store.

He really hated to do this, but he walked past the line and walked into the store, amidst the groaning and complaining. The floor was packed with people picking out gifts for their children, spouses, or friends. There was lots of laughter as products were tried out, and the steady ring of the cash register was barely audible in the background. It paid to be a shareholder in this place, and as Harry slid through two witches giggling incessantly as they gazed into a crystal ball, he caught a glimpse of Alicia at the counter, bagging an order and wishing the customer a Happy Christmas.

She looked up and smiled, waving him behind the counter. "Harry, how are you?"

"I'm good, you?"

"Just fine."

"The baby?" Alicia nodded again and rubbed her extremely large stomach ruefully.

"They're fine, but if they're in here much longer I'm going to have to charge them rent. George is in the back restocking shelves with Angelina." She jerked her head towards the back, already putting on a smile for a flustered man with an armload full of gifts. "He'll be glad to see you." Smiling apologetically before turning to the man slightly behind Harry. "Hullo sir, is there anything else I can help you with?"

Harry left Alicia to tend to the customers and opened the door behind the counter. The twins had remodeled the back of their store quite a few years ago, to make room for a larger store room, production room, and employee break room. With the store in Diagon Alley having six employees, and the one in Hogsmeade having four, they were on their way to adding another store in France, and considering one in America.

The store room door was open slightly, and Harry walked in and stopped short. Angelina laughed and nodded, and George shrugged and laughed as well before stumbling under the hug that she gave him. For a minute Harry had to remember that Fred was dead and the good mood he was in evaporated quicker than alcohol on the skin. The feeling that he was intruding welled up his stomach and before he could figure out why he felt that way he was already stepping back into the hall.

George looked over and his face broke into a smile. "Harry, please come in. We were just talking about you."

"You were?" He asked as he smiled somewhat sickly, wondering what processed him to walk into this store. He always came out feeling slightly off balanced and more than a little conflicted. He didn't need this right now.

"Yes, we were." Angelina smiled and walked over and pulled Harry into the room further. "I've told him about us."

"You did?" Harry looked at George in alarm. All he did was chuckle and slap him on the shoulder.

"Yes she did, and I told her that not only do I think it's a great idea, but it's about time that the two of you tried living again. I know that Ginny would want that."

"You don't think that I'm betraying your sister?" Harry asked the one question he had been dreading asking himself. George shook his head furiously.

"No Harry. You cannot be expected to be more than human, and as much as we try we're not solitary creatures. Something as hit or miss as love… we can't just disregard it." Angelina nodded again and rested her head on Harry's shoulder.

"Thank you George."

"Anytime Harry. I told you, you can do no wrong." He joked, hefting a box in his arms. "I'll be right back Angel. Could you get the wet start Catherine Wheels and the Giggle Visors down? I'm going to put these out on the displays and I'll be back for those." Angelina nodded and Harry watched him leave before turning to her.

"You told him?"

"Yes." Angelina walked over to the rows and rows of shelves with a list in her hand, and she moved the ladder attached as Harry walked over to her. "I can't hide from George."

"I think I understand. I don't hide from Ron. Maybe we all have a patron Weasley." She smiled and handed him the list before going up the ladder and pulling down a bundle of trick wands and tossing them in the box at the end of the row.

"Maybe. Are you mad?"

"Sort of." Harry said honestly. Angelina looked down at him with a frown.

"Why?"

"Because we didn't talk about it. Hermione and Ron don't know about us, and I tell them everything." She raised her eyebrow and jumped off of the ladder to land in front of him.

"No, you tell them everything you don't tell me and vice versa." Harry bristled at the correction.

"Fine, what do you want me to say?" Angelina shook her head and sighed.

"Why are you fighting with me?"

"Because I don't like surprises."

"Well guess what Harry, we can't hide forever."

"I don't want to hide forever."

"Well, when were we going to say anything? We've been seeing each other for a while now. All I'm asking is what are you afraid of? Fred's ghost?" Harry looked at her briefly before shaking his head.

"I'm not afraid of anything."

"Liar."

"Pardon?"

"You heard me Harry. You promised me that we wouldn't lie to each other, and I have known that everything you've said to me was the truth. You're lying to me, and I know it."

"I don't believe I want to continue this conversation." Angelina grabbed his arm before he could move.

"Don't walk away from me… please." She said softly.

"How am I going to talk to you when you think I'm a coward?"

"I don't think that, and that's not what I said. I asked a simple question… is the reason why you're not telling anyone at all because you're afraid of what people might think?"

"I could care less what the bloke down the street talks about, let alone if it's about me." Harry pulled her close and forced himself to keep talking. "I was afraid, and I'm sorry for lying to you."

"You shouldn't be afraid of my memories of Fred. I don't love you because you remind me of him, or you favor him, or even that you have the same mannerisms. It's because you're Harry. The same man who refuses to let anyone around him suffer. The same man who threw out every bottle of liquor in my refrigerator… twice. The same man who patrols my house at night because he wants to make sure I'm safe."

"I wasn't afraid of Fred. I was afraid of what it meant that I no longer dreamed of Ginny every night. That it hurt less and less every time I woke up until one day I was happy. I didn't know what to do, and I still don't. Deep down inside I feel like I should mourn for the rest of my life… because of my failure she's not here. And then I feel worse, because I think if she was here, then I wouldn't have you." Angelina wiped a tear away that slid itself down her cheek. "I love you too, and I want us to be together. In public even… but it's going to be difficult, I won't lie."

"It's difficult for both of us. But when we communicate, we're going to be able to get through it." She put her arms around his shoulders and leaned her head against his chest. "What do we do with each other?"

"I don't know. We'll figure out something sooner or later."

"Okay." Angelina stepped away and was two rungs up the ladder before Harry stilled her, turning her around to face him. "What is it?"

"You never asked me what I was afraid of." He said, enveloping her in a hug around the waist, resting his head on her chest. Angelina ran her fingers through his hair and kissed the top of his head.

"What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid of admitting what I feel for you is real. Because if it's real and I'm not dreaming, then it can end. I don't want it to end. I tend to ruin every good thing in my life."

"I hope you don't believe that Harry, and it's not going to end unless you want it."

"My life isn't that simple." Harry looked up into her eyes and squeezed her harder. "I don't want to lose you. I've made quite a few enemies that I haven't caught yet. If they find out about you, it will kill me if they hurt you. And I won't be responsible for what I would do. I barely escaped Azkaban after killing Bellatrix, and it didn't matter that she had killed Ginny. If any remaining Death Eaters…" He trailed off as if it were painful.

"Don't do that. I can take care of myself."

"I don't doubt it, but Ginny could too."

"Harry, please. You'll catch the last few Death Eaters that you haven't brought in already, and you'll be an Auror again. Everything will fall into place. It has to."

"Why is that?"

"Because the universe owes you a big one."

> > > > >

Ron looked at Harry briefly as he walked into the bedroom and straightened his tie in the mirror next to the wardrobe. "You're over here so much you might as well move in."

"Nah, I'll keep my flat thanks. What brought that up?" Harry asked, pushing his hair back into some semblance of order. Ron shrugged and tied the clasp to his cloak.

"I'm worried about you." Their relationship had gotten to the point where they didn't hold their tongue anymore, and very little could be considered offensive between all three of them. They just said what needed to be said, and dealt with what came later.

"So you want to baby-sit me?"

"Yes."

"No thank you Ron. Besides, you need the extra bedroom now, if I'm not mistaken it takes less than a year for a woman to make one of those baby things." Harry joked, loving the look on his best mate's face.

"Don't you dare, not you too. George has taken to sending an owl with a bloody stupid message almost twice a day. Bloody wanker."

"He's your brother."

"So I know how much of a wanker he is. So, are you taking someone to the ball? Or are you going to mope in the corner?" Ron jibbed gently, and enjoyed the slight red cast that Harry's neck flushed as his nostrils flared.

"Isn't that better than following your wife around and not speaking to anyone but her or me… and then standing beside the food tables and stuffing yourself silly and wondering why you get heartburn halfway through the dancing period? Or maybe it's better than standing around in the middle of the room looking uncomfortable while your wife continues to talk about work as if she's still there?" Ron opened his mouth to respond when Hermione breezed into the room, looking a vision in a blue tulle cloak and matching shoes.

"I thought we agreed we wouldn't talk about each other unless it was too our faces." She asked, walking over to her vanity and pulling out a silver necklace. "Ron, if you would?" He moved to clip the necklace on, and kissed her briefly where the clasp laid on her skin. "Thank you. Now, as for you Mr. Potter-"

"I don't argue with pregnant ladies." He held up his hands imploringly.

"Good, so you'll do as I ask?" Hermione looked mystified. Harry shook his head quickly.

"Oh no, I didn't say I _obey_ pregnant ladies. I said I don't _argue_ with them. Let's all go and have a good time."

"I wished you had at least the sense to bring a date. There will be press, and you know they make up things when they don't have any material." She reminded him, now searching for her gloves.

"I don't care really. After all these years, you would think they would move on to someone else. I'm boring. And rude."

"You are rude, can't deny that, can we?" Ron smiled and shook his head.

"And besides, did you ask if I had a date? No, you just assumed that I didn't, and began chastising me." Harry pretended to look somewhat hurt, but it was swallowed up by the smug look on his face.

"You have a date?" Hermione sputtered, happier beyond belief.

"I knew it!" Ron yelled, pumping his fist in victory. "You were never here anymore, you weren't at your flat, and you were actually happy! I knew it! Who is it mate! Who is she so I can practically kiss the ground she walks on."

"Angelina." Hermione's jaw dropped and Harry reached over to push her mouth closed.

"Angelina… Johnson?" Ron managed to get out squeakily.

"I thought we only knew one." Hermione nodded as if in a dream state, and gave him a genuine smile.

"I'm happy for you Harry, we both are. I'll leave you two to talk." She smoothed Harry's cloak on his shoulders and excused herself quickly. Harry didn't take his eyes off of Ron, who was now looking at the carpet and toeing the same spot with the tip of his dress shoes.

"I hope you're not mad." He said, feeling uncomfortable now. This is why he didn't want to tell anyone. They would act happy until they found out who it was.

"It's odd; I didn't know you were attracted to Angelina."

"I didn't know either." Ron nodded slowly and finally looked up.

"You know by now I'm behind you whatever you do, even if you decided to date Seamus. I'd question your taste, but what could I say, you're happy."

"You're not mad that it's Angelina?"

"I never thought she would move on after Fred was killed, and I knew you _weren't_ going to go on after Ginny if you could help it. Sometimes you need someone to understand where you're coming from before you can move on. I just wish you felt that you could tell me earlier."

"I didn't want to break it." Harry said honestly. "I didn't want to disturb it, move it, and change it, nothing. I was so close to being happy, but I was tense all the time, because I didn't know if it would last. She's temperamental and I can be fickle at times."

"Harry, you're one of the most loyal people I have ever known."

"Except when it came to anyone you were trying to fix me up with. I think I had to move on with my life, because I started confusing the past and the present. It hurt, waking up and rolling over, expecting Ginny there, but she wasn't."

"I know mate. I would hear you at night sometimes."

"Yeah." The two men looked at each other briefly and grinned.

"I know that Fred wouldn't be happier to know that his wife ended up with such a great man."

"So you're alright with this?" Harry asked, feeling hopeful that maybe this will be okay.

"Like I said, we need to get a move on if I'm going to kiss the ground that Angelina walks on."

> > > > >

The so called witty conversation wore on her nerves like sand from the beach of Azkaban on an infant's skin. Angelina plastered on a bright smile that belied none of what was going around in her head. A silver platter floated past her, and as she reached her hand out to grasp a crystal flute, an unnatural hush fell over the crowd on the floor. Angelina turned towards the stairs and smiled as the announcer stepped forward.

"Lord and Lady Weasley, Order of Merlin 1st Class, Pentagram of Heroism." Ron was dashing in hunter green robes that went handsomely with his hair, and Hermione was dressed in a beautiful blue gown that seemed to be made of linen. Both of their faces were slightly red due to the announcement.

But they were happier they weren't Harry, who heard the announcement and tried to back away to sneak in by a side door. But the announcer grabbed his arm and stepped forward, pulling him back to the landing. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but everyone was looking at him and he held his tongue for once.

"Lord Harry Potter, Slayer of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Savior of the Wizarding World, Pentagram of Hero, Order of Merlin 1st and 2nd class."

_'I'm going to kill her, and then I'll hide the body so that even I won't find it…' _Harry thought to himself as he sulked down the stairs. He knew he should smile and nod at the people, but frankly, they could all just go to hell. The huge room shrank in his mind's eye as Hermione and Ron were swallowed up by the throng of people asking them questions, and everyone who looked at him wanted something from him… except one.

She was a vision of loveliness in silver silk, her hair done in a ton of curls that was pulled back by diamond clips on the side, flowing down her neck, resting gently on her shoulders and back. Harry didn't care about keeping her a secret anymore. The need, the overwhelming thought in his mind was to get to her. The look on Angelina's face changed, as if she could read his thoughts, because she started to push her way through the adoring people.

Eyes only for her, amid the flashing lights and opinions, the distance that still remained between them was too much. Harry silently apparated and breathed a sigh of relief as his hand closed around Angelina's wrist. She turned and wrapped him in a hug.

"Why are we acting as if we didn't see each other earlier?" Harry smiled and kissed her on the cheek gently, calming himself.

"I think because I finally understand. I really do. I don't want to hide anymore." He said, looking directly into her eyes. Angelina brushed his hair back from his forehead and nodded.

"Good. Come on, we have rounds to make, especially since I didn't have to tell you to make a splashy entrance."

"I swear, I know this spell that will glue everyone's mouth shut. Please let me do it." Harry wheedled slightly, causing Angelina to laugh.

"No Harry. We're going to poll the room. You see, Minster Scrimegour hasn't arrived yet, so by the time he does, he'll be bombarded with baffled and concerned citizens that are concerned that two of the best Aurors are no longer on the force."

"You're a genius sometimes."

"Sometimes I actually pull myself out of the bottle." A couple walked up to the two of them, smiling.

"Lord Potter, may I introduce myself. I am Amaranth Caine, and this is my wife, Belladonna. We've donated almost a million galleons to make sure that we would be here at this ball when we discovered you would be attending." The slightly balding man was almost salivating over the hand that Angelina forced Harry to offer.

"Did you now? You didn't give out of the kindness of your heart?" He asked dryly. Mrs. Caine looked at him knowingly, taking a sip of the champagne.

"I'm sure you'd do the same in our shoes. We had to meet you. We've followed your exploits for quite some time."

"My… exploits?" Harry said incredulously, and Angelina tugged his elbow briefly.

"I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Caine, but you have been following the career of Harry here?" She asked, putting on a winning smile.

Mr. Caine nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes. From the thrilling stories in the Prophet, to the Ministry's announcements, we felt like we were there. And we definitely felt safer when we found out your chosen profession."

"So you do know that Harry's been dismissed from the Auror program, don't you?" Harry held back the smile he had for the way Angelina had the nosy couple eating out of the palm of her hand.

"Dismissed? Whatever for?" Mrs. Caine breathed as if all scandal in the world paled to the news she just received. Angelina played it up by nodding sadly.

"Absolutely nothing. His commanding officer was always jealous."

"That's the way, isn't it chap? You do something right good for the rest of us, and some snaky bastard comes and wants to clip your wings. Don't let it happen to you, my boy. It's not right." Mr. Caine shook his head in disgust. "I wish there was something I could do."

"Actually, there is." Angelina leaned in close as if she were delivering sensitive information. "The Minister of Magic will be here later on this evening. As constituents of his administration, people who voted him into office, you should have a say as to our defense. Wouldn't you feel safer is Harry Potter was reinstated? I mean, what could be worse than You-Know-Who?"

"You're right. Absolutely right my girl. I'll give him a piece of my mind. He came to me personally, when he was thinking of throwing his name in the running. Needed funding and all, connections to the right people always make a difference."

"You are so right." She nodded. Mrs. Caine looked at her briefly.

"Are you Viviane's daughter? If you're not, you must be a relative."

"I am her daughter, Angelina." The blue haired witch clapped her hands happily.

"My, how you've grown. We met before you went off to Hogwarts. Lovely home you have here."

"We use this house only for large parties. It remains empty most of the year."

"We understand, don't we dear? We have too many houses to stay in them all during the year." Mr. Caine took a horsd'oeuvre from a floating tray and looked around smugly as people watched him speak with _the _Harry Potter.

"Well, we're going to let you mingle. I know my mother is floating around somewhere, so make sure that you see her before you go."

"Quite right, quite right. We'll bump into each other again, and if you need anything, don't hesitate to call on Amaranth Caine." Harry watched the two people wander off to mingle before turning back to the woman beside him.

"I didn't know you schmoozed so well." He teased, spirits lifting slightly.

"I had to learn. My mother liked to entertain. I wanted to tell you that the plan is now twofold. I have looked at the guest list, and it features quite a few influential, if not self infatuated, people. I don't think the Minister of Magic has allowed the news of your dismissal to escape. Our job is to make sure everyone here knows."

"And they'll shame the Minister into giving me and Ron our jobs back?"

"More like prod his social conscience. He likes to stay on top of whatever is politically fashionable. That's why he's at this ball. During this season it's _in_ to think about St. Mungos, and it's also in to be a fan of Harry Potter."

"Seems to me that's always in." he said sourly, the random looks of admiration directed his way made his stomach hurt slightly.

"Very true. Might I add you look very nice?" She said, turning to him and straightening his collar.

"Thank you, and so do you." He admired the silver material that clung to her curves, a diamond brooch at the clasp that contained her intriguing cleavage.

"Good. I have to look good if I'm going to avail upon the rich and snooty that it's a grave injustice to have you out of work."

"You do that. I'm going to get something to eat." Harry kissed her again on the cheek before Angelina moved into the crowd, and he turned find himself in the path of a smug stare. The witch wore fitting sapphire robes, and her purple fingernails adjusted the same hideous glasses she always wore when he ran into her. "Hello Rita."

"Harry dear. How are you doing these days?" She asked, her tone saccharine sweet.

"I don't know, let me go look at your column. I'm sure you'll be able to tell me." He retorted, moving past her to walk towards the food tables.

"But Harry, I just have a few questions."

"You know, I think Hermione is somewhere in the room. If she catches you here…" The threat trailed off as Harry grinned. The standing deal was that if Hermione caught Rita in the same room with her snooping around Harry or any of her other friends, she would be reported, no questions asked. The little reminder did the trick, because the notebook and the Quick-Quills disappeared in an instant as the reporter looked around warily.

"I don't appreciate being blackmailed by a little chit of a girl."

"Then leave us alone." Harry frowned as he gazed over the selection. His appitite disappeared as soon as his eyes alighted on the food. It must be the present company he was in.

"I don't think you understand my journalistic responsibility. I have a right and a duty to report on whatever the wizarding population deems interested. And that's you. I would think you would be used to it by now."

"You would think wrong." He said, still not turning around.

"Well, perhaps I should go and interview your new lady friend. Angelina Johnson, only child of Roderick and Viviane Johnson, heir to the House of Johnson and the accompanying fortune. Likes rainstorms and apparently a certain brooding dark haired man with glasses. Am I correct?" Harry forced himself not to turn around.

"Whatever." The woman snorted and walked away quickly. Turning around to see what caused her hasty exit, he smiled as Hermione came into view, looking murderous.

"What did she want?"

"To cause problems. But you chased her away as always. How do you do it Hermione?" He joked, handing her a little mince pie. She inhaled it less than two seconds and shrugged.

"I got her where it hurts, is all. Are you holding up okay? Random people have been coming up to Ron and I telling us how upsetting it was to hear the two of you was out of a job. They're going to take it up to the Minister." Harry sometimes forgot that Hermione worked directly under the minister, and could receive some backlash from the plan that had been initiated in his favor.

"If you want me to tell them to back off, I will, just say the word." Harry said honestly. Hermione spared him a strange look and turned to survey the crowd.

"You'll do no such thing. I told them all exactly how to get their point across. Scrimgeour has his points of weakness, and I know them all. He enjoys keeping his rich friends happy. He'll cave quicker than Fudge's ego after office." Harry chuckled briefly before laughing outright.


	4. Moving Down The Painful Path

"Luna!" Harry smiled and kissed the wispy blonde on the temple. She beamed back and gave him a fierce hug, holding on a second longer than expected. He looked over her head at Wolfric, who smiled blandly. "What's wrong Luna?"

"Life is very interesting, and it is during your darkest times that you find your truest friends." She said, pulling away and returning his smile, which had become strained.

"How is your father doing?"

"He isn't in any pain. He's finally sleeping now. I thought that was a good sign for me to make an appearance at the Ball, especially since its benefiting St. Mungos."

"Well said." Harry smiled down at her. He couldn't help but think of Ginny when he saw her, now Luna Rhodes. Her long flaxen hair had premature silver at the temples, looking out of sorts with her youthful, yet somewhat pale face. Rising through the ranks of St. Mungos Healing Staff, she became an accomplished mediwitch within three years, due to her uncanny ability to diagnose a patient before running tests. Quite a few timely cases were handled before much damage had set in.

"This is quite some shindig, isn't it darling?" Wolfric asked, putting Luna's arm in his. She nodded briefly and scanned the room.

"I see my shift captain. I would like a word with her before the night became too long."

"Don't think about work tonight Luna. Have some fun, just for a little while." Harry found himself saying. Out of everyone, Luna changed the most drastically. After the final battle, after losing Neville, she wasn't the same spaced girl he had come to love. She was razor focused, and she heard _everything_ within earshot. Nothing passed her observance, and she recalled every detail in perfect order.

"I will have some fun later. But I have some work I was unable to attend to before having to leave to check on my father. If you'll excuse me, Wolfric, are you coming?" Luna turned back and asked her husband.

"Of course, as long as you promise we'll dance tonight." She smiled and patted his hand affectionately.

"Absolutely. Harry, I'll come by and see you again tonight."

"Of course. See you Luna." Harry watched them slide into the crowd with a slight smile on his face. A small draft of air touched the exposed skin on the nape of his neck, and he turned around, wand out. Angelina looked at the tip of it and raised an eyebrow.

"Could you please put that away? You'll scare the guests." She said calmly, holding out a crystal goblet of mead. He took it gratefully and swallowed deeply. "Better?"

"Much."

"They look nice together. I didn't know that Luna wore lavender so well."

"I didn't know that Wolfric did either." She sniggered and shook her head.

"Be nice Harry."

"I am nice. I didn't say it to his face, now did I?"

"No, you didn't. I'll give you that one. Are you mingling with the crowd?" Angelina picked up a small plate with miniature hors d'oeuvres and rooted around until she separated all the dainty pastries by type of meat.

"Sort of." Harry found that the bottom of the goblet in his hand was infinitely more interesting than anything else in the world while Angelina glared at him.

"Harry, the plan would work better if you mingle in the crowd. People think you're some sort of unapproachable person. Someone who should be steered clear of, but worshiped from afar."

"I don't care about that. I just want to keep my sanity. Do you know what someone asked me? They asked me what Voldermort's last words were." Angelina looked down at her plate. "I told him that he laughed, which he did. I didn't tell him why he was laughing. I already have a slack rein on my temper. People don't think before they ask questions."

"No they don't Harry, but you're going to have to remember, at your level of fame… you're not just Harry Potter… or the Man Who Lived. You're a source of great pride in England, and the people just want a part of that. They want to thumb their noses at Voldermort while he's in the grave, because its only then they'll confront their own fear. You saved so many lives, and they're just trying to feel how it feels to be you."

"They don't want to be me. _I_ don't want to be me." Harry took the plate from Angelina and proceeded to eat all the crab puffs. She dusted her hands off and looked at him.

"Be nice Harry. I promise you it will work out. Whitman is due to arrive shortly, and Scrimgeour will be here in about two hours. So we're going to put on a nice face for the press, and since we know we'll make the Prophet tomorrow… we won't give them anything bad to write about."

"Of course. Why would they want to write about me?" He said mockingly.

"Mingle, Harry." Angelina said as she walked away.

"Yes mother!"

> > > > >

"Angelina?" She looked up as someone called her name, and a pretty flamed haired witch walked up to her. "I thought that was you."

"Rebecca? It's been years since I've seen you… how have you been?"

"I've been good, thanks. Since my family moved to France, I have been kind of out of touch with my English. But I came back after You-know-who was put out of his misery." She said conspiratorially and Angelina gave her a slight fake smile.

"Well, it's nice to see you back. So how's life going?"

"Well, I've just gone through a nasty divorce." Rebecca took another long swallow of her firewhiskey and took a deep breath. "It's been only two weeks since I've been able to say that without wanting to cry or break things."

"Well, I'm glad you're not doing either. People would stare." Angelina looked longingly at the wine glasses that were filling themselves perpetually.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"How's your life going? I heard you were married."

"I'm not anymore." Angelina said shortly.

"Ah. What happened?" Rebecca smiled, and Angelina realized why she didn't like the girl to begin with… she's was slightly on the stupid side.

"You heard about the attack in Hogsmeade?"

"Yes? What… oh…" Rebecca looked slightly apologetic and the few seconds of uncomfortable silence stretched forever in Angelina's mind.

"Yes...Why don't you go and enjoy the party? I'm sure my parents would be glad to see you after all these years."

"Alright, I'm here to snag myself a rich husband. I've decided I'm too pretty to work. But you know how it is for us purebloods. Either we're extremely wealthy or we marry rich!" She laughed prettily and Angelina had a brief fantasy of shoving a wineglass down her throat.

"I think I had forgotten, considering my husband didn't start off wealthy at all."

"Ah. Well, I heard that the famous Harry Potter is here."

"He's around here somewhere, but I would call him that to his face." Angelina smiled innocently as Rebecca frowned slightly.

"Don't tell me he's one of those moody types who broods often. He's still young, rich, and handsome. What could he have to complain about?"

"You know what, I haven't the slightest idea. Forgive me, I have to make sure the guests are having a good time." _And that I don't slit your throat with a wineglass. _Angelina thought to herself.

"Well, before you go, one last thing. I heard rumors that he was dating someone at the party." Rebecca said, stepping closer as if sharing vital secret news. "There's going to be a big write up about it in the Prophet tomorrow. I heard their lead reporter is in the room, so I'm going to find her and ask."

"What, you didn't overhear it when you were eavesdropping on someone's conversation?" Angelina said frostily, but the witch didn't notice.

"I tried, but I think after a second they knew I was listening. But do you know?"

"I haven't heard a rumor."

"Darn." The pretty witch pouted, her red nails bright against the chandeliers on the ceiling. "Well, I'm going to look around. It's not every day that you're going to meet the savior of the wizarding world. I hear he's scary."

"Why are you telling me this?" Angelina asked exasperatingly. Her temper and her patience wasn't going to allow her to walk away from this gracefully.

"Well, you went to school with him didn't you?"

"Yes, for a couple of years."

"Well, was he scary then?"

"He was extraordinary then, but things change. He can be kind of intimidating though… from what I hear." It was purely fascination that kept Angelina rooted to the spot talking to this woman.

"Well, you couldn't have spent much time with him after your Hogwarts days, am I correct?"

"Well, we know the same people. So I saw him at holidays and the like."

"Ah, well, that's hardly knowing a person, although I'm sure if you spread that around the room, your already high esteem will soar. I mean, to have Christmas Dinner with _the Harry Potter…_" Rebecca breathed his name as if it were sacred. "Oh Merlin…." She said, and looked positively faint.

"What, what is it?" Angelina asked, sort of concerned. Maybe she caused herself to get too worked up thinking about asking Harry Potter to pass the peas…

"He's coming this way. He's coming this way… go check on your guests now!" Rebecca hissed, smoothing her gown. Angelina's eyebrow rose and she threw a glance at Harry over her shoulder.

"What? You want me to leave?"

"Yes! I mean, you look nice and all… but he's obviously coming over here to talk to me."

"Why you?"

"Because you've been here at the party all night, and you've had your chance already. I read in Witch Weekly that he's looking to settle down, and he has a soft spot for redheads and nice smiles. Now go and check on your-" She closed her mouth as Harry came closer, smiling.

"Hello, how are you? I'm Harry Potter." He held out his hand and Rebecca looked at it as if it were a pile galleons. Recovering, she took his hand and pulled him a tad closer. Harry frowned and moved forward, and was immediately assaulted with the sheer volume of perfume invading his nostrils.

"I'm Rebecca Chase; it's a pleasure to finally meet you." She practically purred. Harry stole a quick look at Angelina, whose sour expression made little red flags wave in the air.

"It's nice to meet you too. Do the two of you know each other?" He asked, looking back and forth between the two women.

"I knew her before my father had her father transferred to France." Angelina said, and Rebecca's blue eyes widened briefly.

"Oh, she's far too modest. We're almost close enough to be sisters. How close are the two of you? I'm sure, being in different classes and all; you don't know each other that well."

"How close?" Harry looked at Angelina, who looked back at him with a blank expression on her face.

"Well, she's very important to me." He pulled her close and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. When they pulled away Rebecca had a sick look on her face. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh… no reason. Excuse me; I think I hear someone calling for me." Angelina smiled sugary sweet.

"Okay, I loved speaking with you; we'll have to do it again sometime." She called at her retreating back.

"What was that about?" Harry asked, slightly amused at the wicked expression on her face.

"Oh, absolutely nothing. So, are you enjoying yourself?"

"Somewhat. I think I can get used to this. I've always wanted to throw a party, but something not as fancy as this. I'm going to give it a whirl one day."

"Good… I'm going to make sure you'll-" Angelina looked past him and smiled evilly. "Guess who walked into the party?"

"Senior Auror Whitman, Order of Merlin 2nd class." The striking figure of Verbatim Whitman cut a heroic pose on the stairs, and the party goers general response was one of chilly reception. Apparently it didn't faze him, because the smile on his face was genuinely gleeful.

Angelina would have patted herself on the back if it were in good taste. The look on Harry's face on the other hand, produced enough heat to warrant a bucket of water. "There are very few people I hate. Despise maybe, but not hate. He has officially put himself on the list." He ground out, his gaze never leaving the sapphire robes of said gentleman.

"Harry, remember, keep your cool. The room is large enough so that I don't think you'll have a problem avoiding him."

"Who wants to avoid him? I don't." Harry made his way over, Angelina following a bit hesitantly.

"Harry, I beg of you, think of the-" Both she and Harry stopped as Mr. and Mrs. Caine came to confront Whitman.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Caine. How is your lovely daughter? Still want to fix her up with a respectable fellow?" He asked easily, extending his hand to Amaranth. The older wizard looked at it with such distaste that Verbatim wavered slightly and removed his hand.

"What my husband is trying to say is that we wouldn't have someone so daft anywhere near our daughter. She's happily pursuing a profession in Gringotts, and her career would only be derailed by such perverse buffoonery!" Belladonna said in a frosty tone.

"What? What would possibly lead you to believe that? Have I done something to offend you in anyway since we last spoke?" He asked, confused. Amaranth looked back at him in incredulity.

"I can't believe you thought you were going to keep this a secret. We've all been notified that a certain Auror that we are most indebted to. A Mr. Harry Potter."

"And his friend, Ronald Weasley. He's such a nice man, and you fired him just as his young wife was expecting? We thought we could expect more from you, but I guess we were wrong." Belladonna took a breath after her husband patted her shoulder. "Just so you're informed, you're no longer welcome about the house, nor the summer cottage. Verbatim… we are not pleased." They walked off stiffly, leaving Whitman standing in his place, jaw on the floor.

Harry's jaw was two inches above the floor as well, his mind wiped of all insults and injuries that he was prepared to wrought upon the unsuspecting Auror. "Well… said…" Angelina sputtered beside him, hiding a smile. "See Harry, when you make yourself accessible, people want to fight your battles for you. They're tripping over themselves to get a chance to do something for the 'Great Harry Potter.' So run with it."

"I don't know, I still want to say something." He said, his wand hand itching with urge to be used.

"You'll get over it. Now are you going to dance with me?" Harry turned back to her and smiled.

"Maybe. Have you been a good girl?"

"The best."

"Potter!" The blond man was stalking over, his cape swishing behind him with self righteous indignation. "You're behind this, aren't you?" The look Harry gave him was intense and very naked. The look of pure odium was as terrifying to look at as a relative that dressed in the dark… three sizes too small… and just as hard to look away from. Verbatim stopped briefly before gathering his courage and stalking forward. "You did this."

"I did what?" He said calmly.

"This! You turned them against me." The man sputtered and Ron came up behind him.

"No, I do believe you did that yourself. And you're making an even bigger ass of yourself by confronting Harry here… and if you confront Harry, you confront me too." The redhead said, jaw set as he handed his plate of food to Hermione.

"You don't seriously believe that I am going to give your jobs back, do you?" Whitman laughed slightly as his eyes scanned the room. His sneer relaxed into a pleasant smile, so if you couldn't hear the conversation, you would think they were sharing a joke.

"Are you still trying to save your reputation? By the time the party is over, you'll be over too." Hermione said sweetly, enjoying the look of dawning horror on his face.

"I have the approval of the Minister! He'll back me up." Verbatim said more to calm himself than anyone else.

"Well, I do believe Rufus Scurmigour will bow to whatever side is the most popular. As his administration is known for doing." She retorted.

"Minister of Magic Rufus Scurmegour, Order of Merlin 1st class." Angelina turned around in slight surprise, as did Hermione. He was early.

"Time for me to go to work." She said regretfully, handing Ron back his plate of food. Harry and Angelina watched her go before turning back to the indignant man.

"I don't think we have anything else to talk about." Harry said as he took Angelina's elbow and led her away, Ron following. The redhead looked down at his plate as he absently followed Harry, who looked back at him after a putting some distance between them and Verbatim Whitman. "Are you alright Ron?"

"What? Yeah, I just wondered what about him intimidated me, and for the life of me, I can't figure out a single reason." He laughed ruefully. "I'm going to go pull my wife away from work and dance with her, and I suggest you do the same." Angelina smiled softly as she watched Ron disappear into the crowd that gave him respectful distance.

"Well, that was interesting. Ron sure has changed since I last coached him on the Quidditch pitch." She said, tracing a design into Harry's hand, which was doing the same to the inside of her wrist.

"He saw many things, and did countless more, and sometimes I realize that while we were together for the last bit, there was quite a lot I don't know that happened. I hope one day he'll tell me." Harry admitted.

"Will you tell him the hell you had to go through to get to Voldermort?" Angelina asked curiously, and he vigorously shook his head.

"Why would I do that? I don't want to make it worse."

"Then know that's the reason why you'll never know what _he_ went through. You're not the only one who wants to spare other people pain. Trust me."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. Let's-" Harry trailed off as he felt someone coming behind him. He looked at Angelina, who looked over his shoulder.

"It's the Minister."

"He's coming over here?"

"Yes. Twenty paces and counting."

"Bloody hell."

"Do you want me to leave?" Before Harry could answer Minister Rufus Scrimgeour whirled him around by the shoulder.

"How dare you! How dare you presume to challenge a ruling by Britain's Minister of Magic? I'll so have you know that you cannot just do anything you want." Harry was barely listening to the rant; he was looking at the hand that was still on his shoulder.

"Minister, if you would be so kind as to lower your voice, this is supposed to be a party." Angelina said, trying to diffuse the situation. The man turned to her and gave her a once over.

"Ms. Johnson, if you'll _be so kind_ as to excuse yourself from this conversation, I would be most gratified. Mr. Potter and I have some urgent business that needs to be attended too, and frankly, you have nothing to do with it."

That was it. Hermione winced and took a step back as she felt Harry's magical field expand. It wasn't conscious, just something that happened when he lost his temper.

"I would appreciate it if you would not only let go of me, but apologize to Angelina. You have no right to talk to her like that, especially in her own home, I don't care who you are. Second of all, I haven't challenged anything." Out of the corner of his eye he caught Hermione's hand signal. It meant silencing charm. He constructed one with nary a thought and continued speaking, his voice after the ambient sounds of the party halted.

"You haven't? Since I arrived various constituents have voiced their concern over your dismissal from the Auror program. Now where would they get that information?" The Minister asked pointedly.

"There are other people in the class besides myself and Ron. Why don't you ask them?" Harry replied calmly.

"Because I'm asking you. You've always endeavored to be a thorn in my side. I should have known this was coming years ago. You gave plenty of signs towards this type of behavior. If you can't have it your way, you don't want it at all."

"No, I do believe that is you." Harry's tone changed drastically, and Angelina took another step backwards. "I was sent off with my two best friends against the so called Greatest Dark Lord, and whatever Death Eaters that hadn't been killed at the Siege of Hogwarts. We kept that castle from being taken for a whole three days waiting for reinforcements. Hell, we were only students! We were waiting on the cavalry to come and take over! We did what we had to do, and as soon as the Aurors arrived, Hermione and Ron, who are two of the bravest people I've ever known, came with me and with their help we recovered the pieces of Voldermort's soul. Not a single Auror was sent to lend a hand."

"But you-"

"Don't interrupt me Minister." Harry looked at him sternly and continued. "Merlin knows what they've endured because we were all separated, but they were there when I died, and if it weren't for Hermione's knowledge and Ron's sheer will to not let me die, I wouldn't be standing before you.

"But what do we get? Useless runaround, hard times, and a lot of unnecessary and unwanted attention. I had to kill so many people in this room are happy and carefree… and you take away the one thing I am good at? The one thing that will help keep me sane?"

"That's what I'm talking about. Who but the next Dark Lord speaks like that? And if you cannot rein in your magic, I will be forced to have you escorted from the property." Scrimgeour was flustered slightly. He wasn't used to being spoken to in this manner, nor having someone's magic brush so harshly against his skin.

"Don't you dare say that!" Hermione finally spoke, looking down at the tile beneath her feet instead of anyone else. The look on her face was pained, as if caught up in a memory. "You weren't there. No one was there except Harry, Ron and I. You have no right to tell someone who sacrificed himself more than once to the fall of Voldermort that he's going down that path himself." She finally looked up, and she didn't look like Hermione at all.

"I have stood by you when you've made unpopular decisions; I have worked in the background to ensure that your policies are fair and direct… and I tried to turn a blind eye when you acted as if Harry and Ron hadn't contributed anything to Wizarding Britain's survival. I cannot stay silent now."

"And neither can I." Minister Verena stepped forward with a tight smile. "Rufus, you have misrepresented yourself and Britain to me in our talks." Her softly accented voice bounced against the silencing charm.

"Madam Verena, I wasn't expecting you until… tomorrow." Scrimgeour straightened his face, and calmed his voice. The slightly built blonde smiled again briefly.

"I know; that is why I came a day early. My dear friends the Johnson's heard I would be in the country, and invited me to the ball… which I am disturbed to find that you rescheduled my trip knowing full well that I love to dance." Harry looked mystified at Angelina, who had the good grace to look away sheepishly. "What am I hearing? Is it correct, you have allowed Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, to whom both of their exploits have reached even our backward ears, to be removed from service?"

"Carmi, this has nothing to do with you, and I respectfully remind you that you're not in Switzerland any longer, and I am Minster here. I will take care of this." Scrimgeour grimaced at the looked he was receiving. He hated to seem out of sorts in public, but all could be soothed over, egos repaired.

"I do believe it involves me. The wizarding world almost destroyed itself by becoming isolationist. You were the one who told me that. If Britain has a problem, so does Switzerland and Lichtenstein, correct? We're in this together?" The Swiss Minister of Magic was a recent addition to the government there, and being the youngest witch elected to Minister, Carmi Verena had a lot to prove. Forging alliances all over the world was her claim to fame, and she made sure she stayed sincere.

"I understand that it seems-" Rufus was again cut off.

"No, it _seems_ that you are being not only disrespectful to your heroes, but unappreciative. Now, I know that you wouldn't do that, would you Rufus?"

"Carmi, of course not. I just was about to reinstate Mr. Potter and Weasley to the Auror training program." Hermione smiled. Scrimgeour could backpedal with the best of them.

"Training? I think they've proven that they can handle whatever is thrown at them, don't you think?" Verena asked prettily, taking the Minister by the arm and linking it with hers. "I would hate to think I had to lure them away to Switzerland to make sure they received their proper accolades."

"Of course not Carmi."

"Oh good." They started off towards the tables of food, and Carmi threw a look and a wink over her shoulder, which Angelina returned with gusto. She turned just in time to see Harry stalk off as the party returned to normal as if wound on rusty gears.

"What's wrong now?" Angelina huffed, turning to Hermione bewildered.

"Harry needs to sort out what he's feeling right now. And personally, I have to go throw up." She rushed off in the direction of the lavatory, and Ron sighed and downed his goblet of mead.

"I don't know what to think personally, but I have no problem thanking the person who made that happen. You always did have a way with people Angelina." He smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks."

"I had a really good cause. Now go help your wife wipe the vomit from her face." She kidded, and he laughed and nodded.

"Quite right." Angelina turned towards the wall of windows that overlooked the property, and saw the scurry of people on the terrace as Harry gave them one glare. She passed them coming back into the party, and stepped out onto the stone balcony. The night was quiet and chilly, the snow fresh on the ground. A heating charm was extended about twenty feet from the balustrade for strolling couples, a very definite line of green at the edge of white drifts.

"My mother was a bit overzealous. She's very powerful when it comes to any spell that will make her life easier. Luxury spells are her specialty." Angelina said, trying to gauge Harry's mood. He just stared out over the dark forest and breathed. She tried again. "I don't think she's ever trusted any of our staff members to set the heating charm correctly, so she does it herself every year." The halfhearted laugh that escaped her lips made her want to stab her own instep with the heel of her shoe.

Time to change tactics… "Harry, what's wrong?" He looked over the wintry evergreens and thought about that question, and found he didn't have an answer. Or at least an answer that she would be happy with.

"I am slightly confused on how I should feel." Harry started honestly, turning to look at her. Angelina hopped onto the stone rail so that she was facing him.

"Elated perhaps? You have your job back."

"But at what price? When do I get to be judged on being Harry Potter, the Good Auror instead of the 'Boy who Defeated Voldermort'? When does that happen?"

Angelina frowned and looked away. "I don't know what to say, and honestly, that is probably centuries away." He glared at her and sighed, running his hand through his hair.

"I'm just so angry. It seems as if he's forgotten what we did. Like the years have trivialized what happened at that castle. Hermione didn't speak one word for three weeks afterwards, and Ron had to be given dreamless sleep just to get some shut eye."

"Harry, you wanted the Minister to leave your fame out of the picture, but remember what you did?" Angelina repeated him just to make sure that she heard correctly.

"Exactly."

"Well, you're famous because people remember what you've done." She tugged on his lapel, pulling him closer. "I know what's bothering you. You feel you shouldn't have had to beg for your job back, am I right?"

"No, I don't think I should have had to. I get so heated sometimes." Harry laughed mirthlessly. "I get angry at the stupid little witches who stop on the street and point and squeal. I hate those who think that killing Voldermort was something that was a walk in the park, and given a crack at it, they could have done the same."

"Harry… which way do you want it? Adoration or abandonment, because I promise you the wizarding world doesn't do gray areas well."

"I just… I want to forget, but I want everyone to remember; every day." He ground out, gripping the stone on either side of Angelina's hips.

"Why would you wish that on someone?" She asked; her heart hurting to see Harry in such pain.

"Because I remember it every day. Everyone who died when Hogwarts fell and every single person I had to kill to get to Voldermort. I want to forget. I don't want his face in my mind. Even in death he's still with me. I can't seem to get away."

Angelina looked at him, and wondered if she could really help Harry get through his mind-set when half the time she was fighting back hysteria herself. If not, now was the time to walk away, no strings attached and no harm done. If she lingered… destruction was sure to rip them both apart for the last time.

"Harry…" She began, closing her eyes against the tears that were always ready. He looked at her and Angelina opened her eyes to stare into the brilliant emeralds that were one of his best features, his most honest and naked feature.

"Angel?"

It was official, Angelina Johnson, formerly Angelina Weasley, was a coward of the most contemptible form. And it was furthermore official that she didn't want the man in front of her to leave her ever. "Care to dance?" The words were shaky and the trembling was really too much. The concern on his face was extra hard to watch, and she buried her face into his shoulder.

"I guess. But why not out here? I don't want to go back in there unless it's for a quick trip, which qualifies getting something to drink and getting our cloaks so we can leave."

"Sounds good to me." She looked at Harry and felt a rush of pride that surprised her slightly.

"What are you thinking?" He asked; curiosity on his handsome face. Angelina gave him a quick kiss on the lips and shrugged.

"I think I'm falling in love with you."

"Oh, is that all?" Harry teased, which earned him a good punch on the arm. "Still have that same right hook I see." He said as he rotated his shoulder.

"Oh stop being a baby. Since you've set the parameters for returning back into the foray, I nominate you to go get our drinks. Then we can have one dance since this _is_ a ball, and say goodbye to people and leave. I've had enough of large crowds for at least another year."

"Here here…." Harry said good naturedly. "Thanks for taking the time to get me out of my funk. I can be an enthusiastic wet blanket."

"Really? I would never have guessed." Angelina shoved him towards the door. "Now hurry up." She kidded.

"Geez… you think you know someone…" Harry threw another look back over his shoulder and memorized the look of Angelina against the moonlight in her silver dress. Absolutely beautiful….

> >

Angelina looked over her shoulder and squinted as something lurched closer. She hopped down from the banister and leaned closer to see the emerging form. As soon as the animal cleared the trees and into the moonlight, Angelina was running down the steps. A deer was dripping blood thickly across the untouched white snow. The sight was stark against the beautiful idyll that was the quiet forest.

She reached where the deer collapsed and realized that there was nothing she could do. Pulling out her wand she prepared to spare the animal any further pain when a tightly gripped hand grasped her wrist and another came to her neck, pulling her upwards and back, so she was on her tip toes and looking up at the magnificently clear sky. "One word… and I'll eat the flesh on your bones without a thought. Drop the wand, and no funny stuff, because at this angle I could snap your neck before you could take a breath."

> > > > >

"Really? That's interesting." Harry said; trying to keep the same stiff smile on his face as the redhead in front of him chattered on and on about something while he pointedly kept motioning towards the fact that he had two drinks in his hand.

"Yes, so I thought I would invite you to my family's villa on the Rivera."

"Rebecca, is it?" Harry asked again, trying to keep the look of distaste from showing. "I'm sure you read the latest copy of Witch Weekly, which said that I love long walks on the Rivera, and I collect puppies and enjoy picnics."

"Yes, I did… the Villa's very large, and my family won't be there for at least another two weeks." She smiled and flipped her hair over her bare shoulder. Harry briefly was reminded of Ginny before the woman opened her mouth yet again. "I'm sure we can find something to do on the beach that is more interesting than walking… if you get my drift…" Rebecca took a jungle green nail and ran it down the front of his chest. "My, _and_ you work out… that's always a plus."

Harry stepped back slightly and sighed. "Okay, here we go. Don't believe everything you read in Witch Weekly. To tell you the truth I inherited a house on the Rivera, and I rarely go because I hate the crowds and it's boring. I don't like dogs, and I don't like cats, and I don't particularly enjoy eating outdoors unless I have to, so if you'll excuse me." Harry bowed slightly and walked away rolling his eyes.

"Angelina, you must tell me where you met your friend, because I don't think you could be more-" He frowned at the empty balcony and looked around. On the grounds he saw the dead dear and fear welled up inside of him so quickly that it made him dizzy. Setting down the drinks, Harry closed his hand around his wand and pulled it out slowly.

Maybe he was overreacting. There was nothing that suggested a struggle, and he clung to that until he jumped down to the grass and walked over and looked at the snow. It's paranoia. It has to be. The snowdrifts were untouched as he came closer to the forest. Nothing to really raise his hackles, but they were raised nonetheless.

Angelina told him a little about the house they were hosting the party in. It was formally called Broxton Mills, and it had, in addition to the 25 room main house, twelve small houses for on site staff and various work houses. The night was quiet and the desperation was overwhelming. Something was wrong, and what was so maddening was the fact that there was absolutely no sign that there was. Looking down, there was a scrap of silver fabric that caught the light.

"Turn around slowly Potter, or she dies very messily."


	5. The Delayed Reaction

_"What do you mean?" Ginny looked at him as if he were crazy. "I let you walk out of my life one time before, and it did neither of us any good. Why are you doing this now, of all times?"_

_"If they find you, it will kill me. Who have you told Ginny?" Harry grabbed her arm and pulled her close, eyes desperate._

_"What? What are you getting-?"_

_"Who did you tell?" He asked again, and she sighed and yanked her arm out of his grasp. _

_"No one. I thought we should talk about it first. I'm keeping it, even if you don't want me to." Ginny pulled a lock of hair out of her face and looked over the lake. "Please don't send me away."_

_"I have to. We're going to get you to Hogsmeade, and then you can get to London from there." Harry started walking back towards the castle. "I can't have anything happen to you."_

_"Well, if you can smuggle me out, then you can get everyone else out, right? It's not fair for me to get out of danger, but everyone else has to stay and die." He whirled around at her statement and glared at her._

_"You're different. You're carrying my child aren't you?" Ginny looked back at him evenly. _

_"Since the last night you stayed at the Burrow. But Harry-"_

_"But nothing. You're leaving, and that's final. They haven't made it here yet, and I won't risk anything. We really shouldn't be out here."_

_"I wanted to come out here. They've cut off the Floo; they've made sure we're trapped. I can't stand to feel trapped. I don't care if there are bloody Death Eaters in the trees. They can go hang for all I care. I just wanted to say goodbye to you alone. To say I'm very glad you came to visit me while you, Ron and Hermione were coming through this way. That I'm glad I had a chance to tell you about your son." _

_"I just want you to go have that test as soon as possible. I want you to know for sure." Harry looked down at the ground, not letting himself feel the happiness he figured he should feel. Mostly he was scared to death. _

_"Well, a girl knows her own body. I've gained some weight, and I'm eating up a storm, and I'm sick in the morning. It doesn't take a genius, but I will have a pregnancy spell performed as soon as I get home. Besides, I'm the first Weasley daughter in seven generations; it has to be a boy, alright?" Ginny smiled and Harry found himself smiling back. _

_"Alright." He conceded, raising his arms in defeat. "Now will you come back to the castle?"_

_"No. I want some air. I can't stand the panic; it puts my nerves on edge. You're going to sit out here with me for at least another ten minutes." She looked over his shoulder at someone walking towards them. _

_"Sorry to disturb you, but Harry, if I could have a word?" Hermione asked apologetically. Ginny waved him away._

_"I'll be over here, I'll be fine." Harry smiled uneasily and turned to jog the last meter to meet Hermione. _

_"What's going on Hermione?" He asked, and she sighed. _

_"I wanted to leave you alone, but since I don't speak Parseltongue, and you are planning on taking Ginny to Hogsmeade in a moment, could you possibly open the Chamber of Secrets? That's the safest place for the students. It was Ron's idea."_

_"Wow, that's brilliant. Sure, let me get Ginny." Harry turned, and gasped. His wand was drawn before he realized he was running. A skull mask emerged from the forest, and as the black robe separated itself from the darkness, wand out. "GINNY!" He screamed, and she looked up at him in confusion, already beginning to move towards him. The world lost sound as a burst of light from the Death Eater's wand hit Ginny in the back. _

_She looked surprised as she went down to her knees, and the Death Eater reached her before he did. He jerked her up again to her feet and dug his wand into her back, causing Ginny to cry out. "Don't move Potter, or it will be more than a stun." _

_"What do you want? Take me instead, but let her go!" Harry bellowed, wand leveled at the sneering mask. Hermione stopped a pace behind him, wand also drawn. _

_"You don't tell me what to do. Maybe I don't want you. Or maybe I do, but it's not your place to tell me how we'll trade. How about this. How about I kill her, and I kill you, and your little mudblood friend, and then we'll call it a day? How does that sound?"_

_"You can bloody well go to hell. How about that?" Harry focused his rage to a fine point, and felt his magic react accordingly. _

_"Well," The Death Eater said mockingly, "How about that… Just as stupid as the tales say you are. I hope you know this is your entire fault." Not a word, not a change in the air, or a change in anything… just the gaping wound in Ginny's chest, staining her yellow shirt with blood._

_ > > > > >_

Luna looked around the room with a slight frown on her face. "What's wrong dear?" Wolfric asked as he passed her a goblet of punch. She shrugged and looked around again.

"I'm looking for Harry, but I haven't seen him. I'll ask Hermione if she knows where he is. She always knows. He owes me a dance that I want to get before we leave."

"Well, Hermione is over there with the Swiss Minister of Magic. She said she wouldn't know what to do with a man of my profession. I informed her I could come to Switzerland to begin training immediately. Minister Verena said she'd have someone from her office to get back with me. I'm coming up in the world."

"I know you are dear. I'll be back." Luna smiled and walked towards the two women. "Hermione, do you have a moment? If you'll excuse her briefly Madam Minister?"

"Of course not. I'm just chatting as you British would call it. I have to go back to my hotel now, but I wanted to tell Angelina goodbye. It should be some time before I return toyour country."

"I don't know where she's gone, but I'm sure that she and Harry are together." Hermione speculated, glancing around the room.

"Then I don't want to disturb them. I'll tell her parents to say goodbye for me. It's been a pleasure meeting you Lady Weasley, and I will try very hard not to make an offer for you to work for me." She smiled and patted Hermione on the shoulder.

"I appreciate the offer Madam Minister, but England has a lot of problems that could use my help. I'm willing to try."

"I'm sure you'll do fine, just keep Rufus in order, and if you need help in that area, drop me an owl." Carmi winked again. "And where has that old fool gone?"

"Home ma'am. Still smarting from the little talk you had." Hermione held back a laugh. "And I'll make sure he remembers it."

"Good girl. Good night ladies, and enjoy the rest of the evening." Carmi Verena bowed out and Luna gave a slight wave before turning to Hermione.

"She was very nice."

"Extremely. What's wrong?" Luna shrugged.

"I'm just looking for Harry actually. He owes me a dance is all."

"Ah. Well, I'm sure he'll honor it. Last time I saw him he was going out onto the balcony with two drinks. I'm sure he's still out there, because he hasn't come past me."

"Well, I'll leave him be for now. I'm not leaving for another hour. I've gotten all my work out of the way except the giving out of the awards, so I'm going to go enjoy myself." Luna moved slightly to the music. "Why aren't you out there?"

"Because I have a slight headache, and I just want to watch other people dance. I'll probably come out there later on. Maybe."

"Alright then, I'll find you later." Luna started to walk off before Hermione grabbed her wrist.

"I'm sorry Luna… but how are _you_ doing?" She asked; a concerned look on her face.

"How am _I_ doing? I'm fine." The blond shrugged vaguely. "Better than to be expected to tell you the truth. I'll get through it."

"I know we haven't been really close, but I'm here for you… you know, if you want to talk." Hermione let her go reluctantly, wondering if she really heard her. Luna smiled slightly and stepped backwards.

"I understand. Thank you Hermione, but I think I can work through this on my own. If Wolfric can't help me, I'll be glad to enlist someone else. Thank you." Before Hermione could respond, Luna disappeared into the jovial crowd, making her realize she wasn't really in the partying mood.

> > > > >

"Let her go." The words forced themselves on the air, and Harry raised his wand, robbed of all emotion except one. Dread. _Not again…_

"Why would I do something like that? She's precious to me because she's precious to you. I've been watching you for some time, even though you've been looking for me." The senile little cackle made Harry's hair stand on end. "That means you're not as good as you think, and definitely not as good as _him_."

"Why are you talking? Kill him!" Angelina swallowed roughly as the razor sharp nails dug into her neck, forcing her to continue looking at the sky.

"He wouldn't dare do that… because I refuse to give him a clean shot, and he won't kill you. Oh no… not you. You keep the _demons_ away, the _evil_ at bay. Isn't that right Potter? You've deluded yourself into thinking you can stop it. You forget, I was there. I saw you, and what you did, and the look of extreme joy on your face. You don't forget a person's battle mask. Never."

"I don't know what you're talking about. You have me confused with Voldermort." Harry kept his stance, but almost screamed in fury as a bloody hand came from around Angelina to wag a finger at him playfully.

"Oh no… _never_ confused the two. You smell different. You think you're not a slave to your magic, while he worshiped his. Worshiped his own power, and it was great… but not as great as yours, because you never relied on it as he did. You never pushed the limits, tested your will against the will of nature. You're a waste. _Weak_. But never as weak as he was, caught up in ego and underestimated his enemies. But you don't underestimate me do you?"

"Kill him!" Angelina yelled hoarsely, feet kicking the air uselessly. Harry moved over to the left, but he was presented with her prone from yet again. Not a single clear shot.

"Yes Potter… kill _us_. That's something I want to see. But you don't have it in you."

"Just because I refuse to kill innocent people doesn't mean that I'm weak. And you doing so doesn't mean you're strong. But you wouldn't know anything about that, now would you?"

"You know what; I haven't given it much thought. I enjoy what I do too much for it to bother me, and as for a conscience, I killed it along time ago." Angelina convulsed and screamed, and began to choke. A trickle of blood streamed from between her lips, and Harry took another step forward. "Not so fast Potter. Come closer and I'll do more than take a nibble… I must admit, I know why you like her. She tastes delicious."

> > > > >

Ron turned around to see his wife with a frightened look on her face. "What's wrong love?" He asked, taking her hand in concern. She took a deep breath.

"It's Harry. I think he's in trouble." He frowned and blinked.

"What? With who? Whitman? I think that's taken care of."

"No, I don't know what's going on or really what I mean… I just don't know why I feel so strongly about this, but I think he's in trouble."

"Now Hermione-"

"Don't you dare. All we've been through, you better not trivialize my feelings now that I'm pregnant. If I weren't I would go and look for him myself." She hissed, yanking her hand out of his with a glare.

"Fine. What do you want me to do? He's probably enjoying himself, like I seem to remember you asking to do the same." He said pointedly, taking her shoulders gently. "I want you to take a breather, okay?"

"No Ron. Find Harry, then I can take it easy. I can relax when I know he's safe." Hermione pulled herself out of his grip. "Please don't do this. Just check on him."

"Fine. I'll scour the ballroom. This place is huge enough that he probably passed by you without your noticing. If I don't see him in here, then I'll look on the grounds. Happy?"

"Very." She rubbed her shoulders slightly as Ron walked away from her, and she turned back and looked at the windows.

> >

"How did you manage to drag him out of the shop?" Luna smiled as Alicia kissed George on the temple.

"It was harder than you think, but he finally saw the light." She quipped, while her husband looked slightly sour.

"Yes, too bad it came at the end of one of my own products. She slammed a Battering Hat on my head… and wouldn't take it off until I was finished dressing. Lousy git." He glared at her playfully.

"Yet you still married me."

"I had to, you were pregnant." Wolfric laughed and shook his head.

"It amazes me the relationship you have with each other. It's so… interesting."

"Not as interesting as that getup you're wearing mate. Nice play on lavender and… is… that… pink?" George asked hesitantly. Wolfric shook his head.

"It's more so coral than anything. Isn't it nice?" Luna patted his tie affectionately. "Not too many men are secure enough to try new things with color." Alicia closed her mouth to make sure she wouldn't say anything, and she elbowed George in the ribs discreetly so he would remember to do the same.

"Ah… right. So, are they ready?" George said in a strained voice, keeping his eyes on Wolfric's face instead of his robes.

"In two days you'll be a proud owner of two of Wolfric Rhodes World Renowned Flamingo Dance Troupes." His chest swelled with pride. "Guaranteed to be a conversation starter at any function, wither it be business or pleasure."

"I believe that is too true." George stifled a laugh, rubbing his hands with glee at the thought of his new purchase, which he knew for a fact drove his wife crazy. Ah… absolutely fabulous. His euphoria was cut short as he caught a familiar redhead dart in between two people, eyes intently scanning the room. "What's Ron doing?"

"I don't know. So when should I expect payment?" George frowned as his eyes followed Ron to Hermione, where they spoke briefly. Hermione didn't look pleased at all, and his brother was looking kind of serious as well.

"Er… you can expect it in the post on the same day. If you'll excuse me." He walked towards his brother and sister-in-law, and felt Luna behind him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm coming with you. I can tell when there is something wrong as well." She said, pulling her wand out of the bodice of her dress. George looked over at her with an eyebrow raised and produced his own wand out of the holster on his forearm, the shaft of wood sliding into his palm.

Hermione let Ron go with a desperate look on her face, furthermore when she turned to see them approach; she had her own wand in her hand. "What's wrong?" Luna asked, taking her hand and glancing around the room.

"I don't know, but I think Harry's in danger. I can feel it." George looked at her for a split second and decided to believe her. The three of them had a bond that went beyond just friendship. If Hermione felt something was wrong, that meant that there was.

"Okay, where has my brother gone off to?" He asked, watching her break out into a sweat. "Are you sure you're okay? Maybe it's the hormones-" The wand shaft he was looking down told him otherwise. "Or perhaps not."

"Don't you dare George Weasley. I might be pregnant, but I have more battle experience than anyone else in the room. Something is wrong, and Ron agrees. He's gone to look for Harry out on the balcony."

"You said he went out with two drinks right? One for him and one for Angelina?" Luna took a step towards the large windows and took a deep breath. "Something must be afoot, because the glasses are on the ledge, and they're untouched."

"That could mean anythi- Luna where are you going?" George demanded, watching the full skirt of her lavender gown rustle as she advanced towards the balcony. "You shouldn't go out there alone!" He looked at Hermione, who looked back at him with a shrug.

"I promised I wouldn't go out there until Ron came returned." George nodded once and jogged after the witch, trying to keep sight of her bouncing curls as she darted out onto the lawn.

> > > > >

Ron peered into the scant light and stifled a gasp. He knew that profile from anywhere. Inching forward, he shivered slightly as the man laughed… no, not man…animal. He chose his path. His clothes were filthy and matted together as if they were really an afterthought. He had not changed since Ron had run into him last, but as he rounded the last house, he realized what Grayback was holding so awkwardly.

The moonlight displayed the scene for all its cruelty. Angelina was unconscious, held suspended by her neck. The back of her gown was a bloody, shredded mess, and to Ron's horror, Fenrir's hand was waded into the bloody disarray. Raising his wand, he focused and one spell came to mind.

>

Harry was out of options, and after Angelina passed out he knew he didn't have much time. Something was keeping Greyback interested, something was keeping him talking. If he didn't want something, he would have left her body for him to find. "What do you want?"

"Desperation, eh Potter? Maybe I wanted to know what I was dealing with. Maybe I wanted to see what type of man you had become." He grinned evilly, letting his hand fall to his side. "You know, I think I know what you're thinking. You're waiting for the moment that my arm tires of holding this piece of meat in front of me… that before I take that breath afterwards I would see the green light of the killing curse. But you know, I do believe my arm has held heavier things for longer." Before Harry could respond Fenrir staggered and screamed, turning around wildly.

His body was spurting blood as he screamed yet again, inhumanly dragging Angelina in the snow. Harry looked up at the emerging figure, and Ron raised his hand, not once letting his eyes off of Fenrir as he whimpered. "You're not so big and bad now, are you? When you're not hurting defenseless women, ARE YOU?" He bellowed and kicked the werewolf in the wound that was still hemorrhaging.

> >

Luna rounded the corner and squealed as she skidded into a snowdrift. George reached her side a second later, and he pulled her up out of the snow. "Careful there, we can't help Harry if you've broken you're ankle."

"I'm the perfect person to do so, considering I can perform the repair spell on myself wandless. Did you see where Ronald went?" She pulled her soaked curls down and twisted her hair up into a tight bun. "I lost sight of him."

"I lost sight of _you_ for a second, so I think we should take it slowly and quietly from here. A little further down is a set of houses, and you can't see around about very well. It's a perfect place for a trap, or an ambush." He said, eyes scanning the area continuously.

"You're right, how stupid of me, barreling in. I have a problem with that. Let's go." She resolutely hiked up her skirt and continued down the path. She ran around the houses just in time to hear a crash and a figure leap into the air with a strangled scream, gushing blood. Luna was running before she even realized.

> >

His breath was hot and terrible, suffocating the skin of his face with its acrid stench. Harry's neck was wet with blood from where the man/animal had tried to rip out his throat. His limbs were feeling sluggish and his mind wasn't reacting correctly.

His mind awoke, and a quiet voice regarded the predicament. 'Something is amiss. You're not reacting as you should.' Harry's arms fell to the side, and Fenrir smiled down at him with bloody teeth and lips.

"I was told to knock you down a peg or two… or ten… but I do believe I'll kill you-" He paused as he looked into Harry's eyes. It was wearing off. Before he could do something, it began to rain bricks.

> >

George gasped as the figure raised himself up to gloat. The moon told him what it needed… the werewolf. Bits of the houses on either side of whomever he was crouched over started slamming into the man, and Luna screamed as a jagged chunk of each house tore itself away and collided with each other in the middle, enveloping the raving lunatic.

Luna gasped again as Greyback scrabbled out of the rubble and loped into the forest, howling. Without a thought she started to go after him, but George called her back. "Don't! It's dangerous, and we don't know why he wasn't transformed and it's a full moon. The forest isn't the place to find that out." He pointed his wand at the rubble blocking the road, and rolled it away, revealing a prone form.

"Oh Merlin… it's Harry?" She breathed, running to kneel beside him. "We have to get him to Mungos right away. We might be able to do something about… about…"

Ron stood up abruptly, covered in blood. "Help!" He screamed hoarsely, wiping the red out of his eyes. "She's been hurt bad. The bastard was playing with her like she was a toy, and she won't wake up!" George caught him before he stumbled to his knees.

"Luna!"

"Hold on!"

"Luna, get over here! This is more important!" Ron bellowed, staggering to his feet. "She's dying!"

> > > > >

"Any instructions?"

"No press. The approved visit list is at the front desk."

"Are the two Aurors at the door really necessary?"

"You do know who she is right? And who he is?"

"…You're right. But she's not going to make the night."

"Who made you the judge of such things? I've saved people in worse shape, why can't I do the same for people who know me?"

"I'm not saying… I'm just stating from a medical fact…. She's not responding to the potions. Not a single charm. What would you say to the family of a person who was beyond your reach? Even you are not able to save everyone."

"I will save her, for him. It's the least I can do."

"…Do you at least want to change? I have a spare robe here, if you're interested."

Luna looked down at her ruined gown and fought back a scream. The night started with such high hopes… "No, I'm fine. Please understand, if there is any change, any change at all-"

"I'll floo you. I promise."

"Thank you Anne. I… I have to get out of here for a while. Floo or no, I'll be back in three hours." The brown haired witch watched her slip out of the room silently. Turning back to the chart at the base of the bed, she read it over again.

Name: Angelina Johnson-Weasley

Height: 5 foot 9

Weight: 65 kilos

Eyes: Brown

Hair: Dark Brown

Condition: Red

Notes: Unable to breathe on her own, expected not to survive the night.

Preview of Somewhat Found:

_"And yet you don't want me angry?" Lupin sighed and shook his head. _

_"I'm not saying that at all Harry. I'm just saying that with the current climate perhaps-"_

_"You sound like a politician. Don't you care what happened to her? To me?" Harry looked at the bedroom door briefly, before leaning in closer. "You are very important to me, so I will forgive you for thinking I shouldn't be upset by this, but do know that I now think very differently of you." Remus gazed back at Harry with slight sadness._


End file.
